ienced what I have, can no longer
choose the embellishments of life as the centre of his existence. My
thoughts cleave to the core of life, bitter as it may be; that will I
make the substance of my labours. I will beg the Kurfuerst to appoint me
to some quiet parish, hidden away in the furthermost wooded valley of
his dominions. There I will teach children to fold their little hands,
advise parents how to guard their children's hearts, strengthen
husbands and wives in their good intentions, sustain the weak, guide
the erring into the ways of peace. And if I have watched over the
smallest congregation in this land like a good shepherd, so that it
returns after my preaching happier and better qualified to the work and
burden of life, finding itself more reconciled and meek under trials,
comforted in all sorrow, then I will have a fuller certainty that my
life has not been lived in vain, than if boys were reading my edition
of the poets, or doctors naming a dogma after me. I do not wish to be
renowned but forgotten. The children and the neighbours only will know
of me, and I feel certain that my bride longs for such a modest
existence."

Klytia leant tenderly over him and gazed into his eyes, Felix alone did
not seem to approve that the end of such a great beginning should be a
hidden Hyperborean village. The Magister however leant his hand
affectionately on his brother's shoulder and said: "My good Felix, be
assured that the Parson Paul will be a happier man than ever the
Magister Laurenzano was, and the fame of our noble race may be safely
entrusted to thy artistic hands."

"See the creation of our new Michel Angelo," cried Herr Belier,
unfolding a plan of the new house which was to replace the old gable
house on the market. A shout of delight escaped them all.

"How grandly story is piled on story," said Erastus, "up to the proud
gable, which shows the world the armour in the which our valiant friend
fought so stoutly. And here is the shield of the Beliers and the
faithful portrait of our host."

"_Mon Dieu_!" cried the little woman, "there is even my poor parrot on
my wrist. The sacrificial lamb which redeemed the blood from our
house."

"Here, Herr Belier," said the delighted Felix, "have I left an empty
frieze for you to add in your device."

"Be that the artist's part," replied the chivalrous Huguenot. Felix
bent his head thoughtfully and casting a loving look at Klytia, mindful
of his brother's hard won for