ere lads? All that is good is drowned and
swept away by this torrent that whirls along, devastating the country.
We see bleeding corpses, appearing by glimpses, carried along in its
dark billows; and in the horror which seizes us, we slip and lose our
footing, we have nothing to hold on to; our cry of terror dies away in
the darksome air--victims of inappeasable anger, we sink to earth, and
there is no hope of salvation.' Ludwig paused, sunk in his thoughts.

"Ferdinand stood up, and put on his sword and helmet. He stood before
Ludwig like the God of War armed for the fray. Ludwig looked up at him
admiringly, and a glow came over Ferdinand's face, and he said, in a
calm and reassuring tone:

"'Ludwig, what has happened to you? Has the dungeon air which you have
been breathing here so long debilitated you, so that you are too sick
and faint to feel the warm reviving breath of spring which is blowing,
sweet and gentle, up there among the clouds as they glow with the rose
tints of dawn? The children of Nature were abbrutized and sunk in
sluggish inaction, careless of all her most precious gifts, and
treading them into the mire. Then their angry mother awoke the Genius
of War, who had long been sleeping in gardens heavy with the breath of
flowers--and War came, like some Giant of Adamant, amongst these spoilt
children, who, at the sound of his awful voice, which makes the hills
tremble, fled to their mother's arms for refuge, though they had
forgotten her before. But with remembrance came gratitude. Nothing but
strength brings success. The divine element radiates out from contest
and striving as life does from death. Yes, Ludwig, a time is upon us
which is pregnant with fate, and (as in the awful profundity of the
ancient Sagas, which come rolling over to us like the mysterious
muttering of distant thunder) we can trace, once more, distinctly, the
voice of that Power which rules for Ever more. Nay, marching visibly
into our lives, it awakes in us a faith which enables us to read the
riddle of our Being. The morning light is breaking, and inspired
Singers are soaring up in the sweet fresh morning air, proclaiming the
advent of the Divine, and celebrating it with hymns of praise. The
golden gates are open, and art and knowledge, in one united ray,
are kindling that flame of sacred effort which makes all humanity
one universal Church. Therefore lift up your eyes, dear friend.
Courage--Confidence--Faith.'

"Ferdinand clasped