Eric turned about, and now, as if it were some trick played upon him by an evil spirit, the contrasted image also, the Victoria, has a likeness to Bella when, silent and quiet, she modestly and humbly bent down her head.

Had Clodwig any suspicion of this wonderful play of opposites, and did he not acknowledge this, this morning when he avowed his heresy to the received opinion?

The pulse in Eric's temples beat violently. He put out the light, looked for a long time out into the dark night, and sought to recall afresh to his recollection the bright plenitude of the day's experience.



IN the morning Eric put on his uniform, for so Clodwig had advised with cautious reference to a former experience. A horse had been placed at his disposal, and his portmanteau was to be sent after him.

Clodwig's contracted brow grew smooth as the handsome, noble-looking young man entered the parlor in his becoming uniform. After greeting him, he pointed to Eric's arm, saying:


"Take off the crape before you go." Eric looked at him surprised, and Clodwig explained himself.


You are not to be sentimental, and you must agree with me that it is not well to enter, for the first time, a stranger's house, wearing a badge of mourning. People often desire a sympathy which they cannot expect to receive. You will be less disturbed in the end, if you impress it upon yourself at first that you are entering service, and moreover are to serve an extremely rich man, who would like to keep everything unpleasant out of sight. The more you keep to yourself your own personal feelings, the more free will you be."

Clodwig smiling quoted from Lucian's Sale of the Philosophic Sects," where the Stoic as a slave cries out, "Even if I am sold, I am still free within myself!"

Eric good-humoredly took the crape from his sleeve.

Bella had excused herself from appearing at breakfast, and sent Eric a message of farewell till their next meeting.

The two men were now alone. Clodwig gave Eric a letter for Herr Sonnencamp, but begged him not to make any positive engagement until he had seen him again, adding almost inaudibly, "Perhaps I shall keep you for myself."

As a mother crams all the pockets of her son going away from home, so Clodwig

sought to give his young friend all sorts of instructions.

"I have but slight acquaintance with the boy," said he; "I only know that he is very handsome. Do you not agree with me that it is a great mistake to give a young soul the foundation principles which are to determine his life-course, before this young soul has collected the material of life or knows his own tendencies ?"


Certainly," replied Eric; "it is like building railroads in uncultivated or halfcivilized countries, before roads have made possible the interchange of agricultural and manufactured products. The root of the disease of modern humanity, as my father often said, lies in the habit of teaching children dogmatically the laws which govern the universe; it is a superfluous labor based on ostentation, which is unfruitful, because it leaps over the first steps."

Clodwig nodded several times. This man might be trusted to sail out into the open sea; he would always have a compass with him.

The time of departure came; Clodwig said,


I will go a little way with you." Eric took his horse by the bridle, and they walked on side by side. The old man often fixed an anxious, affectionate look upon his young friend. He repeated that he considered it a highly honorable task to train the young American for a useful life; then he advised him again to keep this one object in view, and to turn resolutely from all gossip concerning Herr Sonnencamp, who had certainly left many rumors uncontradicted, either because he was too upright to trouble himself about them, or because he preferred to have some facts of his history hidden by false reports. It was undoubtedly singular, that though he was a German by birth, not a single relative had ever been seen at his house; probably, however, he was of low origin, and helped his relatives on condition that they should have no intercourse with him; Major Grassler had hinted at something of that kind.


"One thing more," said Clodwig, standing still, say nothing to Herr Sonnencamp of your having for a short time devoted yourself to the supervision of criminals. I would cast no slur upon him, but many men have an aversion to persons of such a calling."

Eric thanked him, seeing clearly his earnest desire to smooth the path before him. They went on in silence until Clodwig said, "Here I will turn back, and let me give you one warning."

“A warning?"

"Perhaps that isn't the right word; I only of Eric; and as he recalled what had want to say to you, make up your mind to passed, he was astonished at all that he had pass in the world for an enthusiast. A man learned from him in so short a time; who seeks anything in life except profit, pointing to an apple-tree in blossom, he pleasure, and honor appears an enthusiast exclaimed: "Look at that tree in bloom, to many people who have no sympathy which when shaken covers every one with with such a predilection; the world cannot blossoms, and yet its richness is unimbe just to such men, it must condemn them, paired. Such is this Dournay." because it sees its own strivings condemned by them. You will have to bear a martyrdom all your life long, if you remain true, - and I believe you will; bear it with a proud self-respect, and remember that a new, old friend understands you and lives your life with you."

Bella replied, that it must be a hard task for a man who was so spoken and thought of to live up to the standard expected of him. May not such pleasure in imparting," she asked doubtfully, "be an exaggerated self-esteem or pure vanity?"



Suddenly the old man laid his hands on Eric's shoulders, kissed him, and walked hastily away, without once turning.

O no! this young man does not wish to make a show; he only wishes that no moment of existence may be utterly wasted. He lets his active spirit work, and he must take satisfaction in the notice and sympathy of others; without this satisfaction, the pleasure of imparting would be impossible. That is the faith which removes mountains of prejudice."

Eric mounted and rode on; as he turned the corner of the wood, he looked back and saw Clodwig standing still. Bella had watched the pair from the balcony, which commanded a view of their whole course; now she went to meet her husband, and was not a little surprised to observe in his face an emotion which she had never seen there before; he seemed to have been weeping.

"You were right," said Clodwig hastily, "it is better for us to remain by ourselves. But I rejoice in this new generation which differs from ours; it wavers no longer between the two poles of enthusiasm and despair; it has if I may so express it, a sort of intellectual inspiration, and I believe it will bring more to pass than we have. I am glad that I am not too old to understand these young people born into an age of railroads. I admire and love this present age; never before has every man in every calling known so definitely what he wishes and ought to do, both in science and practical life."

Bella thought she must make some reply, and said that young Sonnencamp would be fortunate to have such a guide.

"It pains me that he must enter that house."

66 "Yet you have recommended him." "Yes, that's it exactly. One is punished sooner or later for undertaking anything with half-sincerity or against his real convictions. I have brought myself into closer relations with this Herr Sonnencamp, without really wishing it. In his house I always have a feeling as if I were in a family where horse-flesh is eaten. But, good heavens! it may be prejudice, custom; horse-flesh is also one kind of meat. But now I am free from anxiety for the excellent young man."

Clodwig seemed unable to cease talking

"Faith?" said Bella, smiling beforehand at her own nice distinction, "it seems to me rather like the permanent embalming of a want of faith." He very zealously endeavored to show how this was rather the difficult and painful transmission of one's life.

He spoke long and eagerly. Bella appeared to listen, but hardly heard what he said; she smiled to herself at the old diplomatist, who had something incomprehensibly child-like, almost childish, about him. She threw her head back proudly, conscious of her inflexible virtue, which was strongly armed even against her husband, who wished to bring her into constant intercourse with a young man so richly endowed.

In the mean time Eric had ridden on through the wood, filled with fresh animation by the happy chance which had befallen him. He took a firm hold of his horse's bridle, full of that confident spirit to which every undertaking seems sure of success, or, at least, of only short and temporary failure. He congratulated himself on the good fortune that had helped him to win so easily and entirely a man of refined character, who was evidently somewhat cautiously reserved towards most men.

He had left his past life on the mountain behind him, and a new one was beginning. Smiling, he thought, The heroes of old must have felt in my mood, when they knew that they were under the protection of one of the gods of Olympus.

At a turn in the wood he stopped, and, taking Clodwig's unsealed letter from his pocket, read as follows:

"A neighbor's greeting to Herr Sonnencamp, at Villa Eden.


Had Fate granted me a son, I should consider it as a completion of the great blessing, to be able to give him this man as a tutor.


Eric set spurs to his horse, and rode gaily on through the wood, where birds were singing amid the fresh young leaves. As he passed through the village, he saw at the window of the Rath-haus, behind blooming wall-flowers, a rosy, fair-haired maiden, who drew back quickly as he bowed to her. He would have liked to turn his head to see whether she was looking after him, but he did not venture to do so.

After a little while, it occurred to him that he was very vain to believe that this lingering behind the flowers concerned him at all; Lina had undoubtedly expected to see Baron von Pranken, when she heard his horse approaching.

Eric was now riding along the river-bank in the valley. He was so full of cheerfulness, that songs rose to his lips as they had not done for a long time; he did not give them voice, but sang them in his soul. The whole fulness and variety of thought, perception, and feeling were stirring in his heart. As he saw the sun shining on the glass dome of Villa Eden, it struck him like a lightning flash,

Why is such a free, delightful existence denied me? why must I labor in the service of others? Then came the thought, But what should I do with such an indolent, selfish life? Then the riddle presented itself, How is one to educate a wealthy boy? And so strangely are thoughts associated in the human mind that Eric felt, not that he could solve this riddle, but that he could understand how the ancients had represented the idea of enigmatical questioning and the riddle under the form of the Sphinx. Then again came the inquiry, How can one educate a rich boy, who knows that an estate like that, and untold wealth, are to be his, and who sees no need for exertion in the life before him?

Eric had been looking down; now he threw back his head and smiled as he thought, Neither pupil nor tutor is a mere abstract idea; both are living, variously endowed beings. Such questions can receive no general answer, and all riddles are like stormy weather out of doors, that, seen through the dim atmosphere from the shelter of a house, seems intolerable, but once out in the midst of it, one feels refreshed.

All his puzzling doubts and speculations seemed cleared away, and he felt ready armed to wrestle with the problem. "Come on, riddle, I am ready for you," he said almost aloud, and rode on at a quick trot.

In the midst of his doubts and thoughts a pleasant smile suddenly spread over his face. He wondered whether he were not under some spell, and all the frolicsome humor of youth came over him as he uttered aloud a letter which he would write to his mother.



You must let yourself be named Frau Adventure, for your son, Doctor Adventure, Captain Hero, in the midst of railway cars and telegraphs, has fallen upon Dream-land, where he is fed upon the sweet-bread of praise, and the sugared almonds of protection, by a pair of spirits who watch over the Holy Grail. He is now seated on a bay horse, and has the magic word sesame of a sage hermit in his pocket, and all things come at his bidding, and each says, "Heart, what dost thou desire?" Dear mother, if you want a quiet little island, only say so; I have innumerable ones to dispose of.

"And there's a postscript, dear mother. Suppose the millionaire, towards whom I am riding, should be Uncle Adam? That would make the fairy tale complete."

At the thought that this fanciful conjecture might be a probability, Eric stopped short. Then he rode briskly along the broad road, on each side of which grew great nut-trees, dropping their caterpillarlike blossoms on the path. The horse trotted on bravely, his black mane flying in the wind as the rider lifted his cap to let the fresh air cool his hot brow.

From The Sunday Magazine.




In the wilderness of dingy brick on the Surrey side of the Thames there is a short cut from one street to another, called, if I remember rightly, Raymond's Folly. Raymond, I suppose, was the builder of the houses, but why they should have been thought to indicate mental weakness in their In the other room-propped up with a designer any more than the vast majority of patchwork pillow in a wicker arm-chair, the others in the neighbourhood, it would something like a frontless and roofless blackbe hard to say. Prima facie, the builders bird's cage — sat a dwarf. He was deof all might be considered fools, for no formed as well, and one leg hung springhuman beings, one might fancy, could be less and shrivelled as a broken, withered got to kennel in such cramped holes. twig. There were traces of past, as well Their crowded condition, however, proves as twitches of present pain, in his drawn that those who constructed them were keen face; and yet it looked not only intelligent, students of the laws of supply and demand. but cheerfully benevolent. A musk plant, Hurrying through the Folly on one occa- trained on a fan frame of Lilliputian laths, sion, for the sake of its short-cut, I could stood on his window-shelf, and above it not, in spite of my haste, help stopping for hung a linnet in a cage. A bird-fancier a moment to glance at a couple of pictures, only (teste the Spitalfields bird-market) is as Hogarthian in their contrast as any two often a big blackguard. But wherever you depicting the careers of Tom Idle and see birds and flowers you may be pretty Francis Goodchild. The frames were the sure that the tenant of the house or room is open doorways of two adjoining houses. of a gentle disposition. The musk plant and the linnet were no deceptive signs. Whilst the cripple plied his long, lithe fingers amongst the little gallipots of paint, the little wooden winches, and the little stiff wooden men, with wire-articulated limbs, with which, instead of shattered pipe-stem, his table was littered- he listened to a little class of scholars, squatted on the floor like young Orientals, and spelling out, from an old Bible passed from hand to hand, the first chapter of St. John. Every now and then, too, he looked up to laugh and nod at a chirping, gurgling toddler, tethered to his chair with an old red bell-rope, like a grazing kid; a chubby little toddler, whose cheeks, it must be confessed, were more than sufficiently begrimed, but still too fresh from God's hand to have been distorted by man's into the harsh angularity, or flattened blur of feature, that generally characterizes the Folly's youth.

In one room a hulking bricklayer's labourer, powdered with white dust on his unkempt hair, bristly beard that had not been mown for a fortnight, and limesplashed clothes that were never doffed to go to church, was lifting his heavy head and shoulders, like Dr. Watts's sluggard, from the rickety table on which they had been sprawled - a table slopped with beer, and littered with the fragments of a broken pipe. His stupidly-glazed eyes the orbit of one of them puffed and purple from a recent blow showed that he had had a good deal more than enough beer already; but he had roused himself into semi-consciousness to growl a sleepy curse, and shake a cowardly fist at his wife, because she did not go at once to fetch him "another pot." It was no wonder that even she, poor, pinched, tattered, terrified creature, plucked up courage to linger for a moment with the brokenlipped jug in her hand. A baby was hanging at her skinny breast, and two or three scared, half-starved little ones were tugging at her scanty skirts. When children are whimpering to mammy for bread, and yet the lazy bread-winner insists on having beer, a woman must find it hard work to keep her vow to "love, honour, and obey." What a mockery the Marriage Service must seem to her and the dreams she had when she listened to it, arrayed in abnormal splendour, and bashfully returning the fond

glances of "her new lord, her own, the first of men," looking as smart as any gentleman, and even more loving than in the earliest days of their "keeping company." When an Australian black fellow wants to marry, he stuns his coveted bride with his "waddy." It would be kinder if some of our white fellows adopted his mode of courting with the cudgel-they would not have so much chance of breaking bones and hearts after marriage.


The friend to whose lodgings I had taken the short-cut through the Folly, had charge of the Mission District " in which it stands. When I mentioned to him what I had seen, "Oh, yes," he said, "I know him well- -a most worthy little fellow. He makes me think sometimes of what Bacon says, ' Whosoever hath anything fixed in his person that doth induce contempt, hath also a perpetual spur in himself to rescue and deliver himself from scorn.' It's a better spur than that, though, the little man has got. I be

lieve that the love of God is so shed abroad | in his heart that it runs over with love upon others. He's the peacemaker of that terrible place he lives in, and it's astonishing how many ways he finds, feeble as he is, to help his neighbours. You're almost always sure to find a swarm of children in his place. He looks after them for their mothers, and teaches them to read when he can get the chance. A good many of the women there are a sad set, but they've a great respect for poor little 'Hoppety Bob' that's the name he's known by. They'd clean out his room, or cook his food for him any day, and sometimes, when he is worse than usual, he is obliged to let them take his work to the shop, or do something of that kind. But he's a very independent little fellow, and hops about on his crutch like a sparrow. He's making penny toys now, but he's been all kinds of things. If you'd like to have a chat with him, I'll take you round some evening. Mind, though, that you don't offer him any money. He isn't like other folks. I declare to you that, when I have no money to give them, I often feel inclined to skip calling on some of my poor people. It seems such mockery to preach patience to them, when they are cold, and hungry, and naked, without doing anything to help them to speak to them about God's love, without showing any of it in man's aid. But you would only offend Bob by offering him money."

On a sultry summer evening, about a week afterwards, I found myself with my friend at the entrance of the Folly. A thunder-cloud hung over the whole of London, and in that wretched place the air was oppressively hot and close. Men and boys lolled against the posts, listlessly smoking, and almost too languid and ill-tempered to stand aside to let us pass. The women sat on the doorsteps, with their feverish faces resting on their updrawn knees, embraced by weary arms. Fractious children were wrangling on the pavement. From lines, stretched from side to side above it, drooped clothes whose motionless moistness did not freshen the hot, hushed air. The women seated on the common doorstep of the house in which Bob lodged, gave my companion a very sulky "good evenin', sir," as they dragged up their tired limbs to make way for us. Bob's door opened just inside the common lobby, and when we knocked at it, it was a pleasant change to hear his cheery "Come in." He had pushed his chair to the open window, and was chipping away in the fading light at one of his little


"What are you so busy about, Bob?" asked the clergyman.


Well, sir," he answered, "perhaps you'll laugh, but somebody says there's sermons in stones, and good in everything; and I've been thinking that there might be texts in toys: anyhow, there shouldn't be any bad in 'em. After that blackguard fight at Farnbro', you know, sir, Sayers and Heenan were all the rage, and my shop got me to make them for the children. You turned the handle, you see, and then they squared up along the slit, and pitched into one another. It was rather a pretty bit o' work, and took with the little uns uncommon. I never thought about any harm there could be in it till yesterday. The bricklayer man next door was settin' two young uns to fight, so I told 'em to stop it. You're a nice un to preach about fightin',' says he, why, you teach 'em! I' says I. 'Yes,' says he. How?' says I. With yer whirligigs,' says he. That struck me all of a heap like, and I'm trying to make Sayers and Heenan a-shaking hands, but Tom's an obstinate feller, and won't lift his arm quick enough. I expect I shall have to make out that it's on account of the rap the American give him. Isn't it strange, sir, that it's so much easier to make even a bit of wood do what it oughtn't?"



All this time my introduction was delayed, but I was well content to wait whilst I listened to the mingled earnestness and humour with which the crippled toymaker unfolded his difficulty. There was something pleasant in his voice. For one thing, he neither dropped nor lavished his h's, although, having lived all his life amongst the lower class of Londoners, it would have been impossible for him to avoid catching some Cockneyisms.

"Well, sir," he said, as we sat together after my introducer had departed; "so you want to know how a poor lamester like me has managed to rub on. I don't see what pleasure it can give you to hear about a nobody, but you should know best. But first let's light a bit of candle. When I'm alone, I like to sit a bit in the dark — you can think plainer, I fancy-but it seems unsociable like when you're talkin' to a friend, if you'll excuse me, sir. I'm a Colchester man by birth. Yes, sir, I was born just as I am- - let's see, it must be close on fifty year ago. My father was a lighterman at the Hythe. Poor old father! He's been in St. Leonard's churchyard this many a year— but he did whop me cruel. You see, sir, he was disapp'inted at gettin' a poor thing like me. He wanted a hearty lad to

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