Here are the powerful, they who carve out their, not favored, and thou wilt soon feel thyself rich own fate with a mighty will, whose every respiration sends forth great thoughts; who observe life and themselves from the highest point of view. The sight of them is strengthening. Their eye is clear-is it to be wondered at? Have they not sought for and found the truth, the beautiful, the glorious, the love-deserving truth.

But how is it enough-bow is it so much? Eternal fountain of light and life! Because by that means we approach Thee, because by that means we press nearer to Thy being-learn to know Thee better! If, as a great author says, "The Pagan forgot the Creator in the creature,' it befits certainly the true Christian everywhere to seek for the Creator in the created, to com prehend him, and to adore him.

Thou mayest go forth into the world and find thyself every where at home; thou canst cultivate thyself in thy own little chamber; thy friends are ever around thee, and carry on wise conversations with thee; nature, antiquity, heaven, are accessible to thee! The industrious kingdom of the ant, the works of man, the rainbow and runic-records, offer to thy soul equal hospitality. But they also to whom nature has not given The magnificence of creation illuminates not great strength, has not endowed with the rich only thy eye, it glorifies thy thoughts, it enlightjoys of life, who on the contrary receive with ens thy understanding; oh, with such observacontentedness the crumbs which fall from the tions, with such impressions, feelings and adortable of life, without wearying heaven with de-ations, has not earthly life enough? Enough! siring wishes and prayers; the little insignificant O inexpressibly, infinitely much! ones, unnoticed by the world; how beautifully, how properly do these also make a part of the ordination of heaven? How much tranquil life does the flower enjoy upon the little window-sill, the little bird that sings upon it, the gentle sunbeam that falls upon the window; and while these care-freed children of nature are supported by human exertion, somewhat of their tranquillity and their freshness of life pass from them into the breast of their human cherishers. It is beneficial and delightful to reflect how manifold are the fountains of joy and of pleasure which the all-good Father has provided for his children -and how he reveals himself in them. We become sensible of his présence not alone in the hours of religious observation; the divine spark lives in all the atoms of life: and wherever a pure human effort calls it out, it bursts forth in clear flames of joy. Love, nature, science, art, philosophy-are they not all thoughts of Him, emanations of God? Does not one or other of these regions offer to man a fatherland, in which he can build himself a home and dwell happily ? The same heaven, the eternal sunbeam of the same love, expands itself over us all. How of ten does it not suddenly penetrate man as he goes on his way, amid his own activity, with an inexpressible clearness, with an infinite happiness; the beam of a higher, incomprehensible life passes over him, and he is compelled to exclaim, "There is a God !"

CHAPTER XX.

THE FIRE AND WATER ORDEAL. Brother mine, keep thou good heart, Dance now! hark! they're playing!-BELLMAN. AND of a certainty we must make merry and be glad-nature will have it so, and so will the Creator. Music and dancing furnish the fundamental idea in the great opera of creation. The worlds dance, singing their circuit round the sun; the waves of the sea and the leaves of the trees dance in the wind, and the wind itself plays to their dancing; the will-o'-the-wisps dance on the moor: and heaven itself dances.. the shawl-dance, and rapidly, now in one way, now in another, drapes itself with clouds.

Savages dance in joy and pain; and the educated, who have brought those rude attempts to the highest degree of perfection, sing and dance, so that the animals listen, and the angels in heaven smile.

And yet there are so many poor forlorn-ones who are in want of everything which gives worth to life. It will not continue to be so! The prophets have had their time; the heroes their Upon a smooth green plot dance all the comgreat days-now comes the MAN. But mankind pany at Ramlosa. Baron H. is kindly and is legion; and every individual of this great zealously busied in introducing, right and left, mass steps forward in these days with his own dance-loving ladies and dance-loving gentlemen authority before heaven, and demands room up-to each other. He compels, in all goodness, on earth for his freedom, for his love, for his activity, and his happiness. That there should be the circle, for Baron H. loved that people should the dance-loving to advance, keeping time, into at first much thronging, much cuffing and push-be merry and sociable. He had, by a silent but ing is only natural. All press toward the healing, fresh-bubbling fountain-all will fill their universally accorded agreement, become the "maitre de plaisir" of the bath company. He cups. Many get thrust back and trodden down; but patience! it will be better: for the leaders of knew all the world, and was in favour with all the people have spoken to the rocks, and these the world; and knew so well how to manage have opened their bosoms, and have poured forth the world, that people willingly put themselves a higher and a richer stream. In time all will into his hands, and found themselves all the be satisfied, all will have drank. better for his guidance. This part was exactly suited to his lively, inoffensive humor, although much less for the corpulence of his person, which did not find itself most comfortable therefrom. He appeared, however, to have resolved to subject this to particular suffering; nay, he evidently was bent on getting released from his burden. Miss Greta joked with Clara on this proof of love, and prophesied that one of these beautiful days he would fall upon one knee before her, slender and genteel as Cousin

One fountain is there whose deep-lying vein has only just begun to throw up its silvery drops among mankind-a fountain which will allay the thirst of millions, and will give to those who drink from it peace and joy.

It is Knowledge, the fountain of intellectual cultivation, which gives health to mankind, makes clear his vision, brings joy to his life, and breathes over his soul's destiny a deep repose. Go and drink therefrom, thou whom fortune has

Pasteaureau, and would get possession of her heart.

Cruel Miss Greta! While Baron H. was labouring to make life to everybody around him light and agreeable, she was devising in her head the most dangerous machinations against his peace-nay, even against his life. She had warmly determined, on the very next opportunity, to put the love of the Baron for Clara to several very hard probations. If she convinced herself that he sought Clara's hand out of pure, upright love, and that this courtship was not the result of a transient liking, or desire for a pleasant, comfortable life, with a quiet, patient, pretty young lady, then she would constitute herself his intercessor; if she found it otherwise, then she determined, with seriousness and energy, to put an end to all this love-making, which now had lasted more than three months, and made people already begin to talk. With this, she united the plan of getting at the knowledge, either by good means or bad, of whence Filius properly descended, and what relationship he had with his foster-father.

I must tell thee, dear reader, that Miss Greta was not a person, by any means, to play when she had once taken anything seriously into her head.

san.

But where were we just now? O, at the dance on the grass-plot. The evening is beautiful. The wind has ceased to rock the leaves and flowers; he slumbers now in the wood; yet the little birds sing an evening song to the Nina's bewitching sylph-like form floats around in the waltz. Her partner is a young man, handsome as a statue, with the features of an Apollo and the smiles of Cupid. What is his name? We will call him Don Juan. What is there remarkable in Don Juan? He is the hero of Lord Byron's longest poem; a cousin of Richardson's Lovelace, and is renowned on account of his conquests over the weak of the fair sex, and consequently, according to the judgment of a certain thinker, an unquestionable favorite of all the ladies.

was silent, and spoke shortly and coldly to Don Juan. Clara avoided him from a kind of repugnance, for which she could assign no cause, and which resembled that wise infallible instinct by which animals avoid an injurious plant; he, on the contrary, sought her-he very well knew why-and testified by so doing to the truth of the remark so frequently made, that the voluptuary seeks after the pure especially, but not in order to elevate himself to them, but only to draw them down to him in the dust. Clara, however, in the mean time, appeared to be only a secondary thought to him, and from day to day he devoted more exclusively his attentions and his homage to the affectionate Nina.

But now back to the dance-no, the dance is at an end. Baron H., who had taken for his partner a lady whom nobody else had engaged, lay panting in the grass after an exhausting Mazurka. Miss Greta with her own hand presented him with a glass of lemonade. The President waited for his Countess, who, somewhat uneasy, looked about her for Nina, but who very soon forgot her anxiety in a most interesting conversation with a handsome colonel. Nina, in company with several young lady friends and acquaintance, had undertaken a walk to a distant and shadowy part of the park. Don Juan followed her, and endeavored to fix her attention. Unobserved he separ ated her from the rest, and then, as they all seated themselves to rest a while, he selected a place for Nina sufficiently apart to speak with her unheard, and yet sufficiently near not to excite any anxiety in herself. The tranquillity of the warm evening, the shade of the leafy trees, all conspired to excite the melancholy tone of mind peculiar to Nina. Her beautiful brow rested dreamily on her hand, and she gazed into the twilight distance. The state of her feelings did not escape him; it was what he wanted. With a low, melodious voice, he spoke of the emptiness of ordinary life, of its fetters and its coldness. He spoke so warmly, and with such inspiration of Nature; in her, he said, was revealed the wisdom and the goodness of God. He spoke of a life conformable with nature; a life, therefore, beautiful and rich; a life like that which the patriarch led, or as man even now leads in beautiful, warm countries, and in which every man has legitimate pretensions. He extolled the power of love to govern all things; he called it the blessed dream of life that alone improved and ennobled. He quoted texts from the Gospel of St. John. His words were clear; his voice charming; his conversation poetical. Nina saw not the serpent which lurked under the flowers. She listened almost without thought; an en-. chantment seemed to have come over her. Strange, confused, but agreeable feelings swelled in her breast; she gave herself up to them Nina foreboded nothing, and allowed herself with a sort of enjoyment. Nature, as it were, to be carried away by a feeling of delight which infolded her; she had sunk into her bosom, had operated pleasantly upon her. The Countess lost herself in her flower-odors, shadows, and saw sufficiently into this state of feeling, and dew-drops, and melted away into the wondrous therefore interested herself in the highest de-life around her. A sea of pleasure rocked in gree for the fascinating foreigner and his extraordinary musical talent. He was one of the most familiar members of her circle. Miss Greta saw very clearly into this affair, yet she

Holy Clarissa! Aurora Raby, thou the most lovely star-image which Byron conjured forth from his dark heaven! In your names protest we against this contracted judgment, and declare that that thinker only knew the ladies of great cities, already corrupted by the world, and not woman as she is properly and in truth!

Don Juan, in fact, was dangerous; for who could have foreboded treachery in that open, clear glance; in that cordial laughter; in that amiable unconstrained demeanor? Who believe that licentiousness dwelt in a soul which appeared to warm for all that was good and beautiful; in a soul that sighed, in the hours of confidential intercourse, because he had not found that in life after which he sought, and because he had not become that which he wished to be?

her soul-tears gushed to her eyes, that were cast down before the burning glances of Don Juan, which were riveted immovably upon her, and as with magic power.

The other groups were set in motion, and man and the elderly lady-no, that goes too people rose in order to return. Nina rose also; far! We cannot spend our time reckoning up she raised her eyes up to heaven and looked at all the impressions which every song makes. the twinkling stars. These made a painful im- Great is the power of song, but great also is pression upon her. They seemed to look stern- that of sleep, at least in our good north. Miss ly and coldly down upon her. Edla's penetra-Greta was the first who made this remark, as ting glance came to her remembrance. Nina turning herself to Baron H., she said "The sank her eyes with an involuntary desire to re-song is very beautiful, but not beautiful enough move herself from Don Juan: this escaped not to keep us here the whole night. Let us do his experienced eye, and hastily, but in a low something that is better than sitting hereand troubled voice, he said, "Thanks for this namely, let us go home." hour, after long joyless years. The remembrance of it will be my good angel, and will teach me to bear more easily the weariness of life. Perhaps I appear to you inconstant and frivolous; yet a deep sentiment breathes in my heart. I was solitary-nobody understood me -nobody rightly knew me--and I-never have been fortunate!"

The last words he spoke with an expression of the deepest feeling. He ceased, and offered his arm to Nina. She took it. He was indeed unhappy-nobody understood him. Silently they returned through the still shadowy trees to the company, whose noise was unpleasant to them. Nina walked along with drooped eyelids, a riddle to herself; but she felt the looks which people directed to her.

The company was still assembled upon the dancing ground. They listened to a flute-player, who blew the last quavers as the walking party rejoined them. Don Juan was surrounded, and besought to set the crown to the pleasures of the evening by his universally acknowledged talent. He did not require long solicitation, but taking a guitar from the hands of the Countess, seated himself upon a mossy stone and preluded.

The Baron replied in a language which Miss Greta could not understand till she had observed him nearer; he lay in the grass, and-snored.

Miss Greta beckoned to Clara, and smiling, showed her the sleeper.

"He will take cold," said Clara with an anxious mien; took a shawl and laid over him.

Was it the consequence of a dream, or did the wicked man wake? Enough, as Clara bent herself in order to lay the shawl over him, he raised his arms. Clara drew herself up hastily, and he only caught hold of her hand, which he kissed heartily. Miss Greta looked on. Filius went on in the mean time with business on his own account. He had on this evening got up a little passion for a certain Caroline, a pretty fifteen-years-old German girl, and was making love to her by drawing arabesques upon her shoes and the hem of her dress with a piece of chalk. It was in yain that the young girl repeated "Let that alone, dear Filius! let me be quiet, dear youth! you are insufferable !" In vain-he was now in full inspiration, and seemed neither to hear nor to feel. Miss Greta, who sat near the persecuted girl, and had watched the goings on of Filius, It was beautiful to see him as he sat there; addressed him in an authoritative tone. Filius the lovely head, with whose locks the evening turned himself silently round, and nearly in the wind played, sunk in thought, while the skilful same moment Miss Greta saw a great white white hand touched the strings. He sang, and Roman nose upon her own dark green silk all were ear. People had never heard anything dress. That was too much. While Miss Gremore beautiful. It was a wild romance, which ta noticed the scene between Baron H. and painted the pangs of unhappy love. Passion, Clara, her fine lips compressed themselves alcrime, wild happiness, madness, and death, most imperceptibly together; a certain bitterwere depicted. The singer grew pale before ness showed itself in her countenance, and her his own tones; the listeners with him. A white fingers found their way to the blond locks. shudder of horror thrilled through the company, of Filius, and "au! au! au!" resounded his and the leaf of the tree trembled sympathetical- shrill cry of pain. ly. All was silent, as if almost stunned, while the last incoherent melancholy accords, like death-sighs floated away. He then riveted a long, burning glance on Nina, and his voice became liquid and loving; the singer seemed as if drunken with enchantment. He sang now happy, free, paradisaical love, as Albano and Correggio have painted it. In Nina's heart chords were touched which never had resound-explanation. Miss Greta raised herself with ed till then. Foreboding, desire, an infinite wo, and a nameless joy seized upon her. Was it an abyss-was it a heaven, which was about to open itself before her? She knew not. She would that she might have died at that moment, and yet never before had she such a foretaste of the fulness and the affluence of life as then. That which seized, however, so strongly on Nina's heart, was not without its operation on others and many a heart overflowed, and many an eye, while it filled with tears, cast a glance into a lost Eden. Many a rosy remembrance awoke in the breast of the gray-headed]

Baron H. sprung up with the agility of a squirrel, and exclaimed "Filius!"

Filius, with violent sobs, hastened to his protector, and could only bring forth the words"She lugged-lugged-lugged me!"

A merry astonishment diffused itself in the company, as Baron H. looked at Miss Greta. with a countenance that seemed to demand an

some dignity, and said" My good Baron, I am not going in the first place really to assert that he deserved the chastisement. All that I have to say is, that in future you yourself may undertake the office which I have found myself obliged to assume, and truly wholly in the way in which I have administered justice; otherwise the boy will be insupportable."

Baron H. answered not a syllable, but took Filius, who was already pacified by Clara, by the hand, and looked as if he were about to depart.

The remainder of the company dispersed at

the same time. Clara hoped to receive her shawl again, but found that it was not the case. The Baron wrapped it very calmly about himself, praised its warinth, its softness, and its 46 'gentle character."

Miss Greta gave Clara one of her shawls, for she had several with her, and went silently homeward. When they were about to separate, Clara besought in the politest manner for her shawl. Baron H, however, put it into his pocket, and declared that he should preserve it as a keepsake.

her betrayed itself every day more violently and more intelligibly. He surrounded her with his homage, with his songs, with his glowing poetical beings; her life swung itself upon a sea of sweet sound and poetical delight.

As strong flower odors operate, so operated this musical breath of incense upon her; it was a delicious but a stupefying sensation; a pleasant intoxication, a sweet poison-in which one may die, my reader—at least in the soul !

"But the pure angels in God's heaven they sing truly also! Song is of a truth, something so beautiful, so divine! How could the soul die of it?"

"The noblest work may, in the hands of the evil disposed, become a means of ruin. There is fire which illumines and warms, but there is fire also which destroys." "But-"

Nina was accompanied by Don Juan to her own door. Again he fixed upon her one of his fiery glances, and then left her; and as she was going to bed she was enchanted by a serenade which was sung delightfully from behind the hedge under her window. The moon shone bright; it shone upon her bed; the shadow of the dark cross of the window-frame lay direct- "But! and but thou affectionate angel, ly upon her breast. Nina observed it. She lay whose pure soprano I hope one day to hear in under the emblem of suffering and renuncia- the chorus of the singers in heaven-I have tion, yet was she surrounded by a heavenly not time to-day to spend upon thee. Besides glory. Without lived love and song. Her which, Clara, who is more pious, who is purer heart beat uneasily; her thoughts were wildly and better than I, will answer thy doubts." tempested; her tears began to flow; and while she lay with arms crossed upon her bosom, she surrendered herself in still prayer to Him who read her heart better than herself, and who decided her fate.

That same evening Miss Greta called Clara to account for the words, " He will take cold," and gravely inquired whether she intended to keep him warm with only her shawl, or with her heart also. Clara negatived this question, at first laughingly, and then with much

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"Why do you almost always leave the room, Clara," asked Miss Greta, "when Don Juan seats himself at the piano, and sings so that Nina almost dissolves away, and Natalie looks inspired, and turns her eyes on every side, excepting to that on which the President sits, who, however, does all that is possible to look inspired also? Tell me, why do you always go out then?"

Clara blushed, and answered smiling, "Beserious-cause I will neither be dissolved by Don Juan's tones, nor will I be inspired by them;" she paused for a few moments, and then added, blushing still deeper, "I love music infinitely, and I have not a harder heart than Nina-but there is something in Don Juan's music which does not please me. It excites and enervates, without again tranquillizing. There is a something in it which tells me that his intentions are not pure and honest."

'Good," thought Miss Greta. Notwithstanding this, Clara this evening had much to endure from her friend, who could be occasionally tolerably unmerciful, and who inquired often after the shawl which Clara had lost. Miss Greta declared also that she wished to see other proofs of the Baron's love to Clara than those of stealing her clothes. Then again she would exclaim with a roguish glance, "I am quite curious to know what will be the end of the affair." But Clara exhibited no sensibility about these jests; she remained quite calm, and permitted nothing to mislead her. The good understanding, however, between Miss Greta and the Baron was really somewhat disturbed. A certain constraint, a kind of cold politeness, for several days took the place of their former easy friendship.

But does it not really seem as if we had forgotten the President? We have truly not forgotten him; but near his brilliant wife, of whom he was very proud, and also somewhat jealous, he stepped always more and more into the shade. He drank every day with the utmost scrupulosity his twelve glasses, and complained somewhat of his stomach and his temper; about which the Countess did not trouble herself. She practised music for hours with Don Juan and Nina. Alone with them, and especially with Nina, Don, Juan developed his most admirable talents. He swam, as it were, in music, and became intoxicated with his own melody. Nina felt herself as if bewitched, and every day fell more and more into a state of mystical melancholy. Don Juan's passion for

"But your heart and your understanding are so!" said Miss Greta, embracing her friend; "I only wish that that beautiful and perfect Nina,' as Natalie calls her, had but half your sense."

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Speak to her! warn her!" besought Clara, with heartfelt warmth; "she is so young and so good!"

"With that I have nothing to do," returned Miss Greta with decision, "I do not properly understand that girl; and, besides that, there very soon comes somebody who will speedily put an end to this commotion about Don Juan. We expect Count Ludwig one of these days, and I think then that these hot music lessons may be discontinued. I have spoken, indeed, to Natalie, but that is the same as saying I have preached to deaf ears. Besides this. she has the talent of making white out of black and But the hour of noon strikes. Put on your tulle pelerine, Clara-that is, if you have one left, it is extremely odd of Baron H. that he"

Clara stopped the jesting lips with a kiss, and hastened to accompany her friend to the table d'hôte.

Miss Greta seated herself at table by Baron