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Using and
Administering
Linux: Volume 2
Zero to SysAdmin: Advanced Topics
—
David Both
Using and Administering
Linux: Volume 2
Zero to SysAdmin: Advanced Topics
David Both
Using and Administering Linux: Volume 2
David Both
Raleigh, NC, USA
Introduction�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������xxv
v
Table of Contents
vi
Table of Contents
vii
Table of Contents
viii
Table of Contents
a2ps������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 175
ps2pdf��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 177
pr����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 177
ps2ascii������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 178
Operating system–related conversion tools����������������������������������������������������������������������������� 180
unix2dos������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 181
dos2unix������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 183
unix2mac and mac2unix����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 183
Miscellaneous tools������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 184
lpmove��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 184
wvText and odt2txt�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 187
Chapter summary��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 189
Exercises����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 189
ix
Table of Contents
x
Table of Contents
xi
Table of Contents
xii
Table of Contents
xiv
Table of Contents
xv
Table of Contents
xvi
Table of Contents
Bibliography��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 565
Books���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 565
Web sites���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 566
Index��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 571
xvii
About the Author
David Both is an open source software and GNU/Linux
advocate, trainer, writer, and speaker. He has been working
with Linux and open source software for more than 20 years
and has been working with computers for over 45 years.
He is a strong proponent of and evangelist for the “Linux
Philosophy for System Administrators.” David has been in
the IT industry for over 40 years.
Mr. Both worked for IBM for 21 years and, while working
as a Course Development Representative in Boca Raton,
FL, in 1981, wrote the training course for the first IBM PC.
He has taught RHCE classes for Red Hat and has worked at
MCI WorldCom, Cisco, and the State of North Carolina. In
most of the places he has worked since leaving IBM in 1995, he has taught classes on
Linux ranging from Lunch'n'Learns to full 5-day courses. Helping others learn about
Linux and open source software is one of his great pleasures.
David prefers to purchase the components and build his own computers from
scratch to ensure that each new computer meets his exacting specifications. Building
his own computers also means not having to pay the Microsoft tax. His latest build is an
ASUS TUF X299 motherboard and an Intel i9 CPU with 16 cores (32 CPUs) and 64GB of
RAM in a Thermaltake Core X9 case.
He has written articles for magazines including Linux Magazine, Linux Journal, and
OS/2 back when there was such a thing. His article “Complete Kickstart,” co-authored
with a colleague at Cisco, was ranked 9th in the Linux Magazine Top Ten Best System
Administration Articles list for 2008. He currently writes prolifically and is a volunteer
community moderator for Opensource.com. He particularly enjoys learning new things
while researching his articles.
David currently lives in Raleigh, NC, with his very supportive wife and a strange rescue
dog that is mostly Jack Russell. David also likes reading, travel, the beach, old M*A*S*H
reruns, and spending time with his two children, their spouses, and four grandchildren.
David can be reached at LinuxGeek46@both.org or on Twitter @LinuxGeek46.
xix
About the Technical Reviewer
Jason Baker has been a Linux user since the early 2000s,
ever since stuffing a Slackware box under his desk and trying
to make the darn thing work. He is a writer and presenter
on a variety of open source projects and technologies,
many of which can be found on Opensource.com. A Red
Hat Certified Systems Administrator, he is currently the
managing editor of Enable SysAdmin, Red Hat's community
publication for system administrators. When he's not at
work, he enjoys tinkering with hardware and using open
source tools to play with maps and other visualizations of
cool data sets. He lives in Chapel Hill, NC, with his wife, Erin,
and their rescue cat, Mary.
xxi
Acknowledgments
Writing a book is not a solitary activity, and this massive three-volume Linux training
course required a team effort so much more than most.
The most important person in this effort has been my awesome wife, Alice, who
has been my head cheerleader and best friend throughout. I could not have done this
without your support and love.
I am grateful for the support and guidance of Louise Corrigan, senior editor for open
source at Apress, who believed in me and my vision for this book. This book would not
have been possible without her.
To my coordinating editor, Nancy Chen, I owe many thanks for her hours of work,
guidance, and being there to discuss many aspects of this book. As it grew and then
continued to grow some more, our discussions were invaluable in helping to shape the
final format of this work.
And to Jim Markham, my development editor, who quietly kept an eye and a guiding
hand on the vast volume of material in these three volumes to ensure that the end result
would meet the needs of you – my readers – and most importantly, you as the student.
Jason Baker, my intrepid technical reviewer, has done an outstanding job to ensure
the technical accuracy of all three volumes of this course. Due to the major changes
made in some parts of the course as its final form materialized, he retested some
chapters in their entirety to help ensure that I had not screwed anything up. Jason also
made important suggestions that have significantly enhanced the quality and scope
of the entire three-volume work. These volumes are much better for his contributions.
Jason’s amazing work and important contributions to this book and the course of which
it is part have helped to make it far better than it might have been.
Of course any remaining errors and omissions are my responsibility alone.
xxiii
Introduction
First, thank you for purchasing Using and Administering Linux: Volume 2 – Zero to
SysAdmin: Advanced Topics. The Linux training course upon which you have embarked
is significantly different from other training that you could purchase to learn about Linux.
xxv
Introduction
I have always found that I learn more from my mistakes than I ever have when things
work as they are supposed to. For this reason I suggest that rather than immediately
reverting to an earlier snapshot when you run into trouble, you try to figure out how the
problem was created and how best to recover from it. If, after a reasonable period of
time, you have not resolved the problem, that would be the point at which reverting to a
snapshot would make sense.
Inside, each chapter has specific learning objectives, interactive experiments, and
review exercises that include both hands-on experiments and some review questions.
I learned this format when I worked as a course developer for IBM from 1978 through
1981. It is a tried and true format that works well for self-study.
These course materials can also be used as reference materials. I have used my
previous course materials for reference for many years and they have been very useful in
that role. I have kept this as one of my goals in this set of materials.
Note Not all of the review exercises in this course can be answered by simply
reviewing the chapter content. For some questions you will need to design your
own experiment in order to find a solution. In many cases there will very probably
be multiple solutions, and all that produce the correct results will be the “correct”
ones.
Process
The process that goes with this format is just as important as the format of the course –
really even more so. The first thing that a course developer must do is generate a list of
requirements that define both the structure and the content of the course. Only then can
the process of writing the course proceed. In fact, many times I find it helpful to write the
review questions and exercises before I create the rest of the content. In many chapters
of this course I have worked in this manner.
These courses present a complete, end-to-end Linux training course for students
like you who know before you start that you want to learn to be a Linux system
administrator – a SysAdmin. This Linux course will allow you to learn Linux right from
the beginning with the objective of becoming a SysAdmin.
xxvi
Introduction
Many Linux training courses begin with the assumption that the first course a
student should take is one designed to start them as users. Those courses may discuss
the role of root in system administration, but ignore topics that are important to future
SysAdmins. Other courses ignore system administration altogether. A typical second
course will introduce the student to system administration, while a third may tackle
advanced administration topics.
Frankly, this baby step approach did not work well for many of us who are now Linux
SysAdmins. We became SysAdmins, in part at least, due to our intense desire – our deep
need – to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible. It is also, I think in large part,
due to our highly inquisitive natures. We learn a basic command and then start asking
questions and experimenting with it to see what its limits are, what breaks it, and what
using it can break. We explore the man(ual) pages and other documentation to learn the
extreme usages to which it might be put. If things don’t break by themselves, we break
them intentionally to see how they work and to learn how to fix them. We relish our own
failures because we learn more from fixing them than we do when things always work as
they are supposed to.
In this course we will dive deep into Linux system administration almost from the
very beginning. You will learn many of the Linux tools required to use and administer
Linux workstations and servers – usually multiple tools that can be applied to each of
these tasks. This course contains many experiments to provide you with the kind of
hands-on experiences that SysAdmins appreciate. All of these experiments guide you
one step at a time into the elegant and beautiful depths of the Linux experience. You will
learn that Linux is simple and that simplicity is what makes it both elegant and knowable.
Based on my own years working with Unix and Linux, the course materials contained
in these three volumes are designed to introduce you to the practical daily tasks you
will perform as a Linux user and, at the same time, as a Linux system administrator –
SysAdmin. But I do not know everything – that is just not possible – no SysAdmin
does. Further, no two SysAdmins know exactly the same things because that too is
impossible. We have each started with different knowledge and skills; we have different
goals; we have different experiences because the systems on which we work have failed
in different ways, had different hardware, were embedded in different networks, had
different distributions installed, and many other differences. We use different tools and
approaches to problem-solving because the many different mentors and teachers we
had used different sets of tools from each other; we use different Linux distributions; we
think differently; and we know different things about the hardware on which Linux runs.
Our past is much of what makes us what we are and what defines us as SysAdmins.
xxvii
Introduction
So I will show you things in this course – things that I think are important for you
to know – things that, in my opinion, will provide you with the skills to use your own
curiosity and creativity to find solutions that I would never think of to problems I have
never encountered.
C
ontent overview
Because there are three volumes to this course and because I reference other chapters,
some of which may be in other volumes, we need a method for specifying in which
volume the referenced material exists. If the material is in another volume, I will always
specify the volume number, that is, “Chapter 2 in Volume 3” or “Volume 2, Chapter 5.” If
the material is in the same volume as the reference to it, I may simply specify the chapter
number; however, I may also reference the current volume number for clarity.
This quick overview of the contents of each volume should serve as a quick
orientation guide if you need to locate specific information. If you are trying to decide
whether to purchase this book and its companion volumes, it will give you a good
overview of the entire course.
xxviii
Introduction
4. Preparation
5. Installing Linux
1
Both, David, The Linux Philosophy for SysAdmins, Apress, 2018
xxix
Introduction
8. Core utilities
9. Data streams
19. Filesystems
xxx
Introduction
Chapters 9 through 11 show you how to do some simple – and not so simple –
command-line programming and how to automate various administrative tasks.
You will begin to learn the details of networking in Chapter 12, and Chapters 13
through 15 show you how to manage the many services that are required in a Linux
system. You will also explore the underlying software that manages the hardware and
can detect when hardware devices such as USB thumb drives are installed and how the
system reacts to that.
Chapter 16 shows you how to use the logs and journals to look for clues to problems
and confirmation that things are working correctly.
Chapters 17 and 18 show you how to enhance the security of your Linux systems,
including how to perform easy local and remote backups:
2. File managers
3. Everything is a file
4. Managing processes
5. Special filesystems
6. Regular expressions
7. Printing
8. Hardware detection
9. Command-line programming
12. Networking
13. systemd
17. Security
18. Backups
xxxi
Introduction
xxxii
Introduction
Finally, Chapter 18 will get you started in the right direction because I know you are
going to ask, “Where do I go from here?”
1. Preparation
2. Server configuration
3. DHCP
7. Introducing email
8. Email clients
9. Combating spam
11. WordPress
16. Security
17. Advanced package management
xxxiii
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
often, just as others sneak into gambling-hells or other places of
forbidden pleasure, I have slipped into assemblies where the
Socialists....”
“I know it, Your Highness,” interrupted Helmer.
The prince had been speaking with animated voice and his cheeks
were flushed. Now he seized Chlodwig’s hand. “So then, tell me! You
who are a poet and therefore something of a prophet; you who
would raise goodness to the level of a motive force for political
action,—tell me, how would you help the people?”
“What people? Mine? Is it impossible to help one people alone. In
our day of universal international intercourse and trade, every
country is dependent on every other. One nation cannot by itself be
rich, happy, and independent. The nations are not hermits; they
form a community. In my kingdom, could I put down capitalism,
could I do away with war, if others threatened me with it; if I took
down my own tariff walls, could I break through the limitations of
the others? There is no individual happiness
—‘reciprocally’—‘coöperatively’—‘mutually’: those are the adverbs
without which no blissful verb can be conjugated.”
“Then what would you do?”
“Seek to make alliances with my fellow-royalties. I should—yet I
have no perfected plan of action in my mind, Prince. Only one thing
is quite clear: the mechanicians have won over a new element which
for many thousands of years they never dared hope to enter into.
There is also a spiritual, a moral upper ocean into which hitherto no
one has ventured to steer the so-called ship of State. I cherish the
faith that by this time among the potentates, one—the Zeppelin—is
born and will work and accomplish, and dare obstinately, confidently,
prophetically, in spite of all doubts, all resistance; and will let his ship
mount up into those heights of light.... Pardon me, Prince, I have
one great fault into which I am always falling: speaking far too much
in metaphors.”
“Pardonable in a poet.”
“But you wished to hear something concrete, positive,—in this
respect I have served you ill.”
“No; your Zeppelin picture gives me a quite correct orientation.
First one must gather from the light of reason, even if no experience
answers for it, that a thing is feasible; then one must will and dare.
The individual manipulations will come into play later.”
Helmer gazed at the prince. A warm wave of liking for him arose
in his heart; then instantly this same heart seemed to contract as if
under a cold pressure. The thought of Franka ... how natural it
would be that she should love that man....
As if Victor Adolph had read the poet’s thoughts, he asked: “You
are an old acquaintance of Fräulein Garlett’s, are you not?”
Chlodwig gave a start. “Yes, Your Royal Highness.”
“The lady interests me very much. Can you tell me anything of her
story?”
Helmer told him what he knew: the secluded childhood and youth
with her father who was in slender circumstances; her worship of
that father; the summons to the grandfather’s home; the fabulous
inheritance; and then her passionate desire to accomplish some
great work, to offer herself up in the service of her fellow-men—as if
an atonement for the unearned wealth; then her career and its
results.
“A remarkable fortune!” exclaimed Victor Adolph. “You were her
teacher?”
“I? Her teacher?”
“Yes, she told me so herself.”
“She meant that when she was as yet uncertain how she might
find the great thing which she dreamed of doing, I gave her some
advice.”
“And has not this pretty young woman had any love-affair in the
course of her life?”
“I know of none.”
“Is she so cold? She must have had many suitors.”
“Indeed, she has. She has been much sought after and has
refused many an offer.”
“And you yourself, Herr Helmer, in all this giving of advice, has
your heart remained without a wound?”
“Your Highness ... I....”
“Well, well; it was an indiscreet question. Pray don’t feel obliged to
answer it.”
The valet brought the afternoon mail on a silver salver, and at the
same time announced that His Excellency the adjutant to the King of
Italy desired to see His Highness. Chlodwig arose and took his
departure.
The prince shook hands with him: “Auf wiedersehen. We will have
another talk—not on indiscreet questions, but about dirigible ships of
State.”
“Papa, am I interrupting you?”
Gwendoline stood at the door of Toker’s room.
“Of course, you interrupt me, for I am never unoccupied. But
come in, Gwen; it will do me good to have you divert me a little from
all kinds of melancholy things.”
The young girl stepped nearer. “How is that? You are in trouble!
Does not everything go according to your wish in this rose-magic of
which you are yourself the great conjurer?”
“Here everything is fairly satisfactory; but outside, in the wide
world!” And he indicated a heap of newspapers and letters lying
before him on the table.
While glancing through these messages from the outside world,
John Toker had been spending a couple of uncomfortable hours.
Very bad tidings had come. Not only the alarmist predictions which
emanate from those parties that always have on tap announcements
of an unavoidable war with this, that, or the other neighboring
State; but also positive proofs that in various places, in circles that
had the necessary power in their hands, the intention prevailed to
deliver the blow. In more than one center of discord, little flames
were rising and might easily break out into a destructive
conflagration. The press was not lacking in writers who were
working with poker and bellows for this end so desirable to them for
many reasons. Fortunately there were not lacking, among either
rulers or statesmen, those who were using their best endeavors to
stamp out the dangerous embers; who hesitated about drawing the
sword even when they were provoked—but the decision finally lies,
after all, with the aggressive and not with the opposing portion.
Not only from the papers, but also from private sources, Toker had
received the intimation that dangerous dissensions were likely to
break out. He was in friendly relationship with powerful circles in
various countries, and he got wind of much that was going on
behind the scenes in politics. Thus it had been conveyed to him that
day that one country, whose chief ruler was thoroughly opposed to
war, had a large military party working with all its might, in order
that an insignificant question at issue should be made the cause for
an ultimatum. This party desired to march right in. It found that the
moment was favorable. The victory would be easily won; glory and
laurels might be obtained; internal dangers fermenting might thus
be obviated; and in spite of the opposition of the monarch they were
plotting to aggravate the friction in order that the “marching in”
might be plausible.
However, that is not the proper word: what the war-lovers in
question had in mind was not “marching in,” but “flying in.” In all
countries the air-fleets had attained considerable proportions, but
just at this time this particular State had made a remarkable
advance. Moreover, a new invention in the domain of aviation had
been recently made and was kept a great secret, and a new
explosive had been introduced. With this, the enemy could be
annihilated and the world confounded. The admiral of the air-fleet
was all on fire to enrich the military history of the world with a
hitherto unheard-of battle and victory. John A. Toker felt a quite
peculiar horror at this form of the modern, ultra-modern art of war;
not only because he expected the most terrible destruction from it;
but also his æsthetic and moral feelings were revolted by seeing hell
carried even into the regions of the skies.
Still other catastrophes were looming on the horizon: bread riots;
economic crises; terrorism from below by assassination and
incendiarism; terrorism from above by executions; ... and for those
who looked far ahead, a general break-up; civilization buried under
ruins. Can this be the end and goal of mankind’s lofty aspirations?
Toker felt like one who has brought a wonderfully beautiful
garden, situated at the foot of a mountain, to a high state of
cultivation, and suddenly notices that the mountain has begun to
smoke.
“Every comparison limps” is a correct expression: the lameness in
this figure is, that the destruction streaming from the fiery depths of
the volcano is the work of incomprehensible, uncontrollable powers
of nature, while in these eruptions treasured as “historical,” men
themselves have fabricated the lava, and, thanks to their crater-deep
idiocy, use it for their own destruction.
Yet not all the news that had been brought to Toker’s notice, and
lay there in a great pile, was bad: there were also some encouraging
items. If one attentively listens in every quarter, one can hear the
subdued regular rumble of the great loom, where the genius of
Progress is weaving stitch by stitch the web of Unity which is bound
ultimately to bring together the whole civilized world. Toker’s alarm
grew out of the fact that the all-reigning spirit of growth is often
interrupted and set back by the spirit of destruction, which by fits
and starts exercises its harmful calling and in some places undoes
what seems on the fairest path of development.
“Well, Gwen, what amusing thing have you to tell me?”
“Amusing? I wanted a serious talk with you, papa.”
“You—and serious! But really you look quite solemn. Has anything
happened?”
Gwendoline made several attempts to speak, and then paused
again; she was seeking for the right words and could not find them.
“Courage, Gwen! Have you some wish?”
“More than that, papa;—it is a resolution.”
“Oho! that sounds really serious. Perhaps you want to marry one
of my Rose-Knights. We should have to think that over very gravely.”
“You are making sport of me, papa. I believe you consider me a
very stupid girl, and, indeed, I know I am. Up till now I have not
taken any interest in all the great things which you are working for.
But in these last few days my eyes have been opened.”
“Have you been listening to all the things that my great guests
have said, and did you understand them?”
“No, not all. I believed, as you yourself seem to believe, that those
things are too high for me; that I could not understand them; that
they had nothing to do with me. Only when the personal appeal was
made to me, did I prick up my ears.”
Mr. Toker raised his head in astonishment. “An appeal made to you
personally? How so? by whom?”
“By Franka Garlett: ‘Ye young maidens, listen to me!’ she said. I
listened to her and....”
“Well ... and...?” urged Toker eagerly.
Gwendoline, who had been standing behind the writing-table, now
sat down, as she was frequently wont to do, on the arm of Toker’s
chair. She put her arm around her father’s neck and said: “You have
called all these prominent people here, haven’t you, in order that
their words, which you permit to be so freely uttered, may have a
wide audience, may arouse to convictions and to deeds; in a word,
may make proselytes....”
“Yes, that is my intention.”
“Well, I believe it will succeed. I know of one enthusiastic
proselyte already made by Miss Garlett.”
“You, my dear?”
“Yes, I. Let me have a share in your work; initiate me! I want to
learn to have the same kind of ideas. I don’t believe that I lack the
ability. Yesterday, I listened very attentively to the address of that
‘Schwingen’ poet. (And between us, if I am not mistaken, he is in
love with Miss Garlett.) I could not understand all that he said, but
still I understood enough to get some new light; the question is to
make men, that is to say, their souls, fly up into higher regions.”
Quite correct, thought Toker; but that their souls may fly high, the
main thing is to help their bodies out of wretchedness, depravity,
hunger, and squalor—the masses must be able to free themselves.
Aloud he said: “Just see, how my little girl has profited from the
teachings of my speakers! Gwen, this gratifies me, indeed! Go on
with your thinking and your learning.”
“But I should like also to do something, papa, and you must tell
me what!”
“Just at this moment I can’t tell you what you will be capable of
doing. First let what has been sowed in your little head during these
last two days ripen. I have my doubts about such sudden
conversions. Nine chances out of ten, such seeds will be blown away
again.”
Gwendoline sprang to her feet: “Have you so little faith in me?”
she exclaimed reproachfully. “No wonder, though, for up till now I
have been such a superficial good-for-nothing thing.”
“You have been a child, and that was all that was expected of you;
there is no reason why you should not remain such for a while yet.
Destinies and tasks are unequally distributed. Not all men can give
themselves exclusively to caring for the weal of others; there must
be some, also, who are carelessly happy themselves—especially in
life’s Maytime.”
The morning after the supper with Helmer, Franka awoke with a
dull headache. She had not slept well, but restlessly, feverishly,
anxiously. She could not have told what had filled her mind with
worry, with anticipation, with uncertainty; for her thoughts had led
her on rather confused meanderings. Now as she got up, she felt
that there was a burden on her mind, and she explained this state of
things by the deluge of impressions that had swept over her, and by
the fact that her resolution to renounce her career as a lecturer had
left her facing an uncertain and aimless future.... And yet at the
same time this resolution was agreeable to her, for in that career she
no longer saw before her any shining goal, any prize of victory to
satisfy her longing.
Aye, it was longing which lurked in the background of her unrest.
Longing? For what? Franka was no unsophisticated child, and she
put the question to herself, without unconscious bashfulness: “Is my
hour come? Does Nature demand her rights? Do I wish to live, to
love?”
Her thoughts turned on the two young men who for several days
had filled her imagination and her dreams. But neither of them had
declared himself. The prince was perhaps too proud, the poet too
modest, to want to marry her. And to which of them should she give
the preference? To this question her heart gave a whispered answer,
but so softly whispered that it was not decisive.
After her cold morning bath and her hot morning tea, she felt
refreshed and somewhat calmer. She put on a simple street-toilette
and left her room. She felt the need of getting out into free nature,
and she bent her steps toward the neighboring wood. Purposely she
refrained from inviting Frau Eleonore to accompany her, for she
wanted to be alone with her thoughts, to take counsel of her own
heart.
She wanted to ask herself what now were her wishes, her hopes,
her purposes.—Was the resolution definitely fixed to retire from a
public career? Was it justified? She had taken up as her task “To
accomplish something great”: was this task accomplished? And was
it not presumption to suppose that she was capable of accomplishing
anything “great”? To do that, one must be great one’s self, and that
she certainly was not. During this Rose-Week, when she had met
with so many brilliant men and women of genius, she had fallen very
low in her own estimation.
What was she with her rather superficial fluency in comparison
with all these mighty artists, thinkers, poets, inventors? Could she
only tell them all how insignificant she felt in comparison with them!
Just as there are attacks of pride and ambition, so Franka now had
an attack of the deepest humility, a strong yearning for seclusion:—it
was one of those hours when one wishes one’s Ego dismounted
from its too prominent pedestal, whereon it has been standing in far
too haughty isolation; when one would like to compel it into a
kneeling and leaning attitude of humbleness before a dearer
“Thou”....
Through the grove breathed a delicious fragrance of warm resin
and moist moss. Buried in her thoughts, Franka had been wandering
for an hour hither and thither through the forest, and had reached a
spot where a wooden seat was built around an ancient oak tree. She
was rather tired, and so sat down on the seat, winding her arm
around the trunk and leaning her forehead on it: thus she rested.
The air was hot and full of the hum of insects. An agreeable
weariness closed Franka’s eyelids; yet she was not asleep, only
sinking into a comfortable half-doze, comparable to the feeling that
plants may have under the caress of the sunbeams or the fanning of
gentle breezes. Her breath, the beating of her heart and the song of
the forest, the whispering of the tree-tops, melted together into one
harmonious rhythm. It was the undefined, softly soothing delight of
mere existence—nothing more. And yet with it all was mingled
something new, something never before experienced by her,
something that did not seem to belong wholly to the present, but
throbbed as if at the coming of a future fulfillment—
A voice startled her out of this twilight of the soul: “Is that you,
Signorina Garlett?”
It was the great Italian tragédienne who was out also for a lonely
morning walk.
Franka sprang up.
“Don’t move. I will sit down with you for a few minutes. It is very
charming here, so quiet and peaceful. I have disturbed you. You
were deep in dreams ... probably you were thinking about your
lover.”
“I have no lover.”
“That is incredible—only you will not confide in me. But you might,
carina. I am so much older than you are; I have tasted so fully of
the joys and sorrows of life, and I know well that we women—if we
are genuine women—experience all our pleasure and all our grief
only through love ... everything else is nothing. Our art, our beauty,
our social or domestic virtues—all that is only the shell, is only the
tabernacle; the true sanctuary is our burning and bleeding heart.”
“So speaks one from the South,” replied Franka. “The rest of us
are colder. My heart truly—up to the present time—has neither
burned nor bled for any man. I do not take into account any passing
little acceleration of its throbbing. My work, my duties, have
completely occupied me—up to now....”
“What has been your special work?”
“Making girls over into thinking beings.”
“Thinking—not feeling?”
“The one does not exclude the other. Men, too, feel and love; at
the same time it is their duty to think—not that they always do so—I
must agree to that. You, great artist that you are, who have
penetrated into the depths of poetry, would surely be the last person
to forbid women thinking.”
“No, I do not; but I insist that they love. And ultimately, they all
obey—even the women of the North. In the Northern poets
especially I have found the most fundamental love-problems.
However, madamigella Franka, you just said the words ‘up to now’ in
a tone which makes me suspect that perhaps the coldness which
you boast of is already beginning to melt.”
Franka’s cheeks glowed: “How you read people’s souls, maestra!”
The other smiled sweetly, and seized Franka’s hand. “So it must
come,” said she, “once in every life. But,” she added in another tone,
“shan’t we return? Don’t you hear distant thunder?”
In fact a low growling of thunder was heard, repeated two or
three times; and the air was sultry. Franka got up.
“Very well, let us go. We shall have time enough to get under
shelter. You see, it is the same way with my love ... far and low I
seem to hear the premonition of what may prove to be a heart-
storm. It has not as yet arrived, but it is coming and it will be
welcome: I shall not flee from it, as we are now trying to escape
from the threatening shower.”
By this time a few scattering drops were falling. The two women
hastened their steps. Suddenly the Italian actress said:—
“Its coming has been noticed.”
“The coming of what? A quarter of an hour ago, the sky was
perfectly blue.”
“I am speaking of your love-affair, dearest.”
Franka, surprised, lifted her head. “What do you mean?”
“Well—the handsome German prince.”
CHAPTER XXV
SCENES OF BEAUTY AND OF LOVE
The speaker retired and the hall was completely darkened. All the
more brilliantly gleamed the great white screen on the platform. A
half-minute of intense expectation passed.
Franka turned to Helmer: “Do you know what is coming?”
“Yes, Mr. Toker gave me an inkling of it. Pictures of landscapes
more magnificent than were ever seen before—except in reality:
nature-framed. The impression is said to be magical.”
Suddenly, the white screen was transformed into a view of a
primitive tropical forest—a remarkably picturesque piece: in the
foreground, at the right and at the left, two gigantic gnarly trees,
whose branches arched upward until they met, forming a kind of
triumphal gateway; on the ground and toward the back a luxuriant
growth of unknown plants and flowers.
“That reminds me of Ernst Haeckel’s marvelous travel pictures,”
remarked Helmer.
It was evidently photographed from nature and in the most
brilliant colors. Polychrome photography had, to be sure, been
invented some years before, but here, for the first time, perfect
fidelity to nature had been attained: not only the succulent green of
the foliage, and the velvet brilliancy of the moss, but something like
real light, such as prevails in the primeval forest, streaming with
emerald tints through the tree-tops and flinging bronze reflections
on the brown trunks. Dark and pale lilac blossoms glowed in the
maze of vines, resting here and there in dense masses among the
branches; here and there hanging down like the sprays of weeping
willows; then again, springing from the soil, tall-stemmed, crimson-
red flowers, with broad, wonderfully serrated calyxes—a flora quite
unknown in our temperate zone.
The prologue had not promised too much: no painter could depict
such a scene: it was nature itself. To near-sighted eyes, the picture
may have presented a more or less confused maze of colors; but
through the opera-glass every leaf and every stalk could be seen in
its sharp outlines, and if one looked with a high-powered glass one
might have detected the gauzy wings of some brilliant-colored
butterfly sitting motionless on some flower.
Franka drew a deep breath and murmured: “It is bewitching.”
“Yes, the world grows richer every day,” said Helmer; “but look,
there comes something still more amazing.”
Through the hall swept a subdued murmur of astonishment.
Franka pointed her glass to the platform again: she expected to see
another, perhaps a still more beautiful picture, but it was the same.
And yet different.... Was it not alive? Didn’t the vines sway? Didn’t
the light dance on the mossy ground?—Yes—and now a small bird
flew from one tree to another—a gayly feathered little bird gleaming
in metallic colors. For a minute or two the fixed photograph had
appeared in the frame, and now the kinematographic reproduction
of the same bit of nature was substituted for it. To be sure, living
pictures were no longer a new marvel, but the sudden animation of
the apparent painting—that was the surprising effect; and the new
victory was that kinematography in colors had been added to the
achievements of this art. For long ages men had been seeking to
imitate, to preserve the life around them—and now, what a long
distance between the first rude attempts at delineating the forms of
animals or the bones of animals, to the living picture accurate in
color and full of motion!
The tropic landscape was followed by one from the Far North: the
luxuriance of warmth by the splendor of the cold: a polar-sea region
in the morning light. The picture must have been taken on board of
a ship, a ship surrounded by glittering icebergs. Here also there was
motion; the spaces of open sea were alive with dancing waves; sea-
gulls swept by; the clouds that moved along the horizon changed
their form and color. A third picture portrayed a bit of the sea-
depths. Had a diver carried his kinematographic apparatus down
with him, or was the picture taken from an aquarium? The question
could not be decided; what seemed to fill the frame was azure water
with coral formations on the bottom, and populated with marvelous
creatures. Opaque crustaceans tinier than grains of sand flew this
way and that quicker than a flash; gelatinous creatures were seen
going about in all directions by means of invisible organs; others
proceeded by contracting their feet; diminutive medusæ moved
slowly about, carrying their umbrellas; little sagittate animalcules
dashed in agitated flight like torpedoes; anemones hung there, like
chandeliers; shadow-like, transparent creatures, iridescent,
phosphorescent creatures—beauty, beauty everywhere!
After a brief pause, what followed was the actual Color Symphony
promised in the prologue—a concert for the eyes. The eyes alone
should enjoy it and wholly without accessories of landscape and life.
The framework disappeared; the whole platform was swallowed up
in darkness for a time, and then suddenly flamed up in a crashing
chord of ruby-red, topaz-yellow, and sapphire-blue. Then the colors
began to move rhythmically and dispose themselves into figures;
they obliterated one another and formed new combinations of ever
new nuances; just as a solo voice rising above an orchestral
accompaniment, now hovers an emerald-green line in the
foreground and depicts—adagio—a vibrant arabesque like a melody,
while the accompanying colors diminish to a dull silver-gray.
A second line, of the tenderest rose, now curls round the green,
as if it were a second solo voice. Now the duet is swallowed up by a
violet glow and again begins a genuine ensemble of all the
instruments: violin-tones from the golden yellow, flute-tones from
the celestial blue, a trumpet-blast from the red, a drum-tap from the
brown. In ever new forms and interchanging tempos the colors
stream together and apart. Here they cluster into balls; there they
tumble in waterfalls or hover in flakes like soft-falling snow. The
most variegated lights and reflections and beams and flame-gleams
and mother-of-pearl tints make up the ensemble. The color
symphony contained also a scherzo wherein the melodious
arabesques are transformed into a whirl of grotesque hopping
figures. The finale introduces a prestissimo with the rapidity of a
tornado, of a blizzard, which finally dies down again into calm
serenity. And ever more and more pallid grow the colors, ever duller
the lights, with a decrescendo dying gradually into the most delicate
pianissimo, until at last the stage again lies in absolute darkness.
And then against the darkness, shining brilliant red, appeared, a
hundred fold in size, the crest of the house, the symbol of beauty: a
rose in full bloom.
After the intermission one of Toker’s famous guests, the German
physicist, delivered a brief address. He also produced a variation on
the theme of the evening. He proved, even more clearly than the
animated pictures could do, the manifold and hidden beauties of
nature. He revealed the wonder-pictures that are discovered by the
microscope to our astonished senses; the splendor of form of the
Radiolaria, the symmetry of the thousand-faceted eyes of insects;
the delicate traceries of mould and mosses invisible to the naked
eye; the rich life in a drop of stagnant water—beauty everywhere.
But in order that the visible world may resolve into beauty, we
must learn two things: to see and to enjoy. Could there possibly be
splendor of color and grace of contour if all living beings were blind?
And could what we see ever be felt as “beautiful” if the spectator
remained without enjoyment? The evolution of organisms required a
long time until the eye was formed; and a second long period
stretched between the use of an organ of sense and the enjoyment
that grew out of the use of it. How long it took for man to learn to
enjoy the beauties of nature! In all ancient literatures no description
of nature is to be found in tones of admiration. The ancient Greeks
found delight in the grace of human bodies, in the noble lines of
artistic buildings; but in their songs there is no trace of enthusiasm
over a mountain landscape, or a seashore. Among our peasantry,
living in the midst of the most magnificent nature, the majority are
unmoved by beauty of scenery. The formation of the organs of sense
must be followed by the exercise and the refining of the
corresponding organs of the soul. Then only the soul may be raised
to the inspiring mood which is called the enjoyment of beauty.
In the mean time, John Toker and Helmer were chatting in the
salon. The two men were sitting in the embrasure of one of the
windows behind a screen of tall, big-leafed plants, and were unseen
and undisturbed.
“This would seem an admirable place for a pair to flirt in,”
remarked Toker, as he led his guest to it; “but this privacy will also
suit us. I have as yet had no good opportunity to thank you for your
address; moreover, this afternoon, I have read the translation of it,
and so only now realize how completely our ideas and aims are in
agreement. You say quite rightly, mankind has reached the turning
of the ways. Either—Or. It truly cannot continue as it is. Therefore,
we must put forth all our energies, even if our energies are of no
great magnitude. And I have a high opinion of the power of the pen;
it can charm in a playful way; but it can also be a very mighty
instrument of harm and of help.”
“What you say, Mr. Toker, reminds me of a conversation which I
had not long ago with a fellow-countryman, a boyhood friend of
mine. He asked me how I could devote my art, my talent to the
service of politics and such inartistic objects. I answered, ‘Because
there is a fire, my dear friend. And if—in such a case—one holds in
one’s hands a brimming pitcher, one uses it to quench the flames
and not to water flowers.’”
“Quite right; so let us put out the fire. News which has reached
me to-day makes me fear that there is going to be a great
disturbance. The work which we are doing here—the exerting of
influence on thinking men—proceeds—quite too slowly, I am sorry to
say—in spite of all our apparatus for wide publicity.”
“Yes,” agreed Helmer; “it is a dribbling, instead of a flood. Before
minds gradually change, the avalanche of collected stupidity comes
rolling down and buries the whole region. Here I am speaking in
metaphors again.... I keep detecting myself in this habit. Prince
Victor Adolph thought that pardonable in a poet. Now, that I think of
it: this prince—in spite of his position—is on our side in all his
inclinations, and so—precisely because of his position—he might
successfully help us in the endeavor to put out the fire.”
“I had the very same idea. You know his reputation?”
“More than that: I know his inclinations.” And Helmer related the
interview which he had held that very same day with the prince.
“Well, he seems to be a splendid young man,” said Toker. “To-
morrow, at eleven o’clock, he is coming to see me, in order to plan a
campaign. The rescue, the saving of the lives of a hundred thousand
people—that is to be the object of our conspiracy. He just told
me....”
“Just told you? Is he here?”
“Yes, he came at my invitation. At this instant he is on the terrace,
as my daughter told me, and is sitting in the moonlight very
sentimentally talking with Miss Garlett.”
Helmer made a sudden motion and suppressed a groan. This did
not escape the older man’s attention.
“Oh, Herr Helmer, is that disagreeable to you? Perhaps you are
somewhat sentimentally inclined to your pretty table-companion and
fellow-countrywoman yourself?... That would be quite natural. Don’t
shake your head...young men are quite properly in love; I like to see
it. I will not detain you ... go out on the terrace and interrupt the
flirtation, if you object to it. It would be much better for the young
lady if she should incline her heart to you....”
“Good Heavens! I could not enter into competition with the
prince ... if things are actually as you seem to think.”
“Why not? ‘Faint heart never won fair lady.’”
“You yourself, Mr. Toker, set me very different tasks from that of
winning a maiden’s heart.”
“Hold on! Hold on!... I am no fanatic, no man of one idea. To work
for a great public object does not require that a man should give
himself body and soul to this affair. One must not neglect one’s
duties toward one’s own happiness. When one has the foundation of
domestic content, of cheerful peace of mind, one can work much
more effectively for a great cause. It gives harmony and balance.
And then, energy grows out of it as a tree springs out of a rich soil—
you see, I can also speak in figures. Well, good-bye for now. I will
go around among my guests for a little while longer. To-morrow we
will take up our plot again.”
Helmer hastened out on the terrace: not as Mr. Toker had advised,
to break up the flirtation, but to observe it. Yet in spite of his zeal to
find that which would cause him misery—he found nothing: the
couple was not to be seen on the terrace.
Franka had been for some time in her room. She did not turn on
the light, but went out on the balcony and threw herself into her
rocking-chair. She wanted to think over what had occurred in the
very same atmosphere in which it had occurred—in the fragrant
moonlit, summer night.
She drew her lace shawl closer over her shoulders and leaned
back in her chair, rocking slowly to and fro. She recalled the words
which had so overwhelmed her with amazement. Again she seemed
to hear distinctly the accent in which “Franka, I love you” had been
spoken and the still more momentous “You must not for an instant
misunderstand me: I offer you my hand.” My hand—my hand ... like
a refrain which runs in one’s head these words sang themselves to
her, and here again were the same warm breath of the night, the
same penetrating perfume of violets which emanated from the
already half-faded bouquet that she wore on her bosom. He was in
no hurry for a reply—so much the better! Had she given either a
hasty “Yes” or a hasty “No,” perhaps she might be even now
regretting it. So the decision was postponed: it was left to her free
and deliberate choice, whether she should seize this marvelous
Future, big with portentous eventualities, or reject it.... “Difficulties,
reserves.”... Her pride revolted ... why had she not said “No” on the
spot? But is it not true—a king’s son: such a step is not taken so
easily. And it would involve sacrifices, renunciations, struggles....
That very morning she had been anticipating with some longing a
thunderstorm of love—to tell the truth, the image of another lover
had arisen in her mind; now in truth such a storm had burst upon
her, but it had not brought any relief to her mental strain. In the
dazzling lightning-stroke of that declaration of love by the one, the
image of the other had grown somewhat pale, but was not wholly
obliterated. Evidently this other did not love her. He had constantly
shown himself active in promoting the interests of Victor Adolph;
that very evening in the hall....
“Are you there, Franka?” It was Frau von Rockhaus. She had
turned on the light in the room and was now standing in the balcony
door. “I did not see you any longer downstairs and supposed that
you had gone to bed.... Why didn’t you call me?”
“I knew that you would soon be following. It is pretty late.”
“That was a very pronounced wooing this evening,” observed Frau
Eleonore. “Did he propose at last?”
“Who?”
“Who! The prince, of course!”
“You are inquisitive, dear Eleonore. Let us go to bed. I am sleepy.
Good-night.”
She rang for her maid and went to her bedroom. But she found no
rest.
Victor Adolph also spent a restless night. During the past forty-
eight hours events and impressions had been overwhelmingly
sweeping in upon him. That address of Helmer’s, opening new
perspectives before his soul; the tidings that perhaps a throne would
be offered him; that conspiracy for the advantage of the
contemporary world, which John Toker wanted to conduct with his
assistance; and finally this summer night’s dream which had ended
with such a sudden and mighty flaming up of passion that he had
surrendered to it for all time....
The tormenting part of the situation was that he saw himself
facing not merely one, but several fateful questions. When he
wanted to devote himself to thoughts of his beloved arose the vision
of the beckoning throne, and when he attempted to balance the
chances and the obligations which such a change of conditions
would bring with it, then arose the image of the woman whom he
loved—to whom he had offered his hand. And what difficulties
heaped themselves up before him! What battles there would be! Had
not this step been indiscreet? Aye, that it had; but is passion ever
discreet?
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