ry vividly what true friendship can accomplish. It
so happened that a certain noble prince, a zealous friend and protector
of the Arts, offered a valuable prize for a picture, the subject of
which, very interesting, and not over-difficult to treat, was duly
announced. Two young painters, who were united in bonds of the closest
friendship, determined to compete for this prize. They were in the
habit of working together; they told each other their respective ideas
on the subject, showed each other their sketches for it, and talked
much together as to the difficulties to be overcome. The elder of the
two, who had more experience than the other in drawing and grouping,
had soon grasped the idea of his picture, had sketched it, and was
helping the younger with all his power; for the latter was so
discouraged at the very threshold of his sketch for the picture, that
he would have given up all idea of going on had not the elder
unceasingly encouraged him, and given him advice and suggestions. Now
when they began to paint their pictures, the younger, who was quite a
master of colour, was able to give the elder many suggestions, which he
skilfully adopted and availed himself of; thus, the elder had never
coloured a picture so well, and the younger had never drawn one so
well. When the pictures were finished, the masters embraced each other,
each of them inwardly delighted with the work of the other, and each
convinced that the well-earned prize belonged of right to the other.
The younger, however, was the gainer of the prize; upon which he cried
out, thoroughly ashamed: 'Why should I have it? What is my merit
compared to my friend's? I could not have accomplished anything worthy
of praise but for his help.' But the elder said: 'And did you not help
me with valuable counsel and advice? No doubt my picture is by no means
bad; but you have got the prize, as was proper. To strive towards the
same goal, bravely and openly, that is real friendship. Then the laurel
which the victor gains honours the vanquished too. I like you all the
more for your having laboured so doughtily, and brought me, too, honour
and renown by your victory.' Now, Friedrich, that painter was right,
was he not? Would it not rather truly and intimately unite than
separate true friends to strive for the same prize, honestly, openly,
genuinely, to the utmost of their power? Can petty envy or hatred find
place in noble minds?"

"Never!" answered Friedrich; "assuredly