ls form one harmonious whole, whose loud, glorious music is a pure,
heavenly harmony of eternal glorification and ecstasy.'

"Then he began to point out, and give prominence to particular groups.
He drew Traugott's attention to the mysteries of the disposition of the
light and shade; to the lustre and sparkle of the flowers and gems; to
the wonderful forms which, rising out of the bells of lilies, grouped
themselves into bands of beautiful maidens and youths; to the bearded
men who, with youthful vigour in their looks and motions, seemed to be
conversing with curious animals. He spoke louder and louder, more and
more vehemently and incoherently.

"'Let thy diamond crown sparkle, thou mighty sage!' he cried, with
gleaming eyes riveted on the empty canvas. 'Throw off the Isis-veil
which thou hast cast over thy head at the approach of the uninitiate!
Why dost thou wrap that dark mantle so carefully over thy breast? I
must see thy heart! It is the philosopher's stone, which discloses all
secrets. Art thou not _me_? What meanest thou by confronting me with
such audacity? Wilt thou do battle with thy master? Dost thou think
that gleaming ruby there, which is thy heart, can grind my breast to
dust? Come on, then! come forth! come _here_! I am he that made thee,
for I am----'

"Here the old man fell to the ground in a heap, as if struck by a
lightning flash. Traugott raised him up; the lad brought an easy-chair,
in which they placed the old man, who now seemed to be lying in a quiet
sleep.

"'You now know my dear old father's condition, sir,' said the lad
softly, in a low voice. 'A cruel fate has stripped all the flowers away
from his life; for many years he has been dead to the art, which was
his life formerly. He sits for entire days before a canvas, stretched
and grounded as you see that one. This he calls "painting," and you
have seen the condition of excitement which the description of one of
his so-called pictures produces in him. Besides this, he is tormented
by another most unfortunate idea, which makes my life a very sad and
unhappy one. But this I look upon as a blow of destiny which carries me
away in the same sweep with which it has come over him. If you would
like to recover a little from the impression of this strange scene,
come with me into the next room, where you will see several pictures
painted in my father's earlier, fruitful days.'

"How astonished was Traugott to see a number of works which might hav