self, by his own ardent exertions and the helpful kindness of
others, a student in the University. This was to him a most pure
gratification--not because of a love of learning, not because of
ambition, to attain a position before his fellow-men. Oh! it was
quite otherwise with the good youth--he had one object in life. The
hope that his dying mother had awakened in his heart was the guiding
star of all his efforts. That little maiden created for him, and to
be supported by him! The image was ever before him. Yes, he was a
student for a high and noble use. Science was to be to him the
instrument of a life of love and blessedness. To do good to others,
and thus to provide for the maiden, was what led him to the arduous
study of medicine.

It mattered not that cold and hunger and toil all bound him in an
earthly coil. The warm, hopeful heart has a wonderful endurance. The
delicate, attenuated form of the young student seemed barely
sufficient to hold the bright and glowing spirit that looked out
from his soft eyes, when he received his degrees. The desire of his
life was growing into a fruition; and when he returned to his poor
lodgings, a sense of freedom, of gratitude, and of delight, crowned
his yet barren life. To work! to work! seemed now the one call of
his being; but, whither was he to go? There was the childhood's
home, to which his heart instinctively turned; but, alone and
desolate, he could not dwell there. Gotleib had not forgotten his
mother's lessons; he knelt and prayed to God for guidance. Even as
he kneels, and feels his spirit in the sunshine of God's presence,
there is a knock at the door, and the good Professor Eberhard
enters. He has marked the student in his poverty and toil, and feels
that he will now hold out a helping hand to the young beginner. As
professor of anatomy, he needs the quick eye and delicate hand of an
expert assistant.

Gotleib looked upon the Herr professor as Heaven-sent, and in a few
days was installed in all the luxury of a life of active use.

Years passed away, and (sic) Gotlieb Von Arnheim sighed with a man's
full heart for a woman's sympathy and responsive affection. He had
seen bright eyes gleam and soft cheeks flush at his approach, and he
had looked wonderingly into many a sweet face. But he had not yet
seen the little maiden of whom his mother spoke--who was to be the
reflex of himself. All these German maidens were altogether
different from--and his heart remained un