s in
politics; our cousin's in theatrical life; Wilhelm's in thorough-bass;
and Mr. Thostrup's in learned subjects. Each of you is thus a little
nail in the different world-wheels; whoever despises others shows
that he considers his wheel the first, or imagines that the world is
a wheelbarrow, which goes upon one wheel! No, it is a more complicated
machine."

Later in the evening, when the company broke up, Otto and Wilhelm went
together.

"I do not think," said Wilhelm, "that thou hast yet said thou to me. Is
it not agreeable to thee?"

"It was my own wish, my own request," replied Otto. "I have not remarked
what expressions I have employed." He remained silent. Wilhelm himself
seemed occupied with unusual thoughts, when he suddenly exclaimed: "Life
is, after all, a gift of blessings! One should never make one's self
sorrows which do not really exist! 'Carpe diem,' said old Horace."

"That will we!" replied Otto; "but now we must first think of our
examination."

They pressed each other's hands and parted.

"But I have heard no thou!" said Wilhelm to himself "He is an oddity,
and yet I love him! In this consists, perhaps, my own originality."

He entered his room, where the hostess had been cleaning, and had
arranged the books and papers in the nicest order. Wilhelm truly called
it disorder; the papers in confusion and the books in a row. The lamp
even had a new place; and this was called order!

Smiling, he seated himself at the piano; it was so long since they had
said "Good day" to each other! He ran over the keys several times, then
lost himself in fantasies. "That is lovely!" he exclaimed. "But it is
not my property! What does it belong to? It melts into my own feelings!"
He played it again. It was a thema out of "Tancredi," therefore from
Rossini, even the very composer whom our musical friends most looked
down upon; how could he then guess who had created those tones which now
spoke to his heart? His whole being he felt penetrated by a happiness, a
love of life, the cause of which he knew not. He thought of Otto with a
warmth which the latter's strange behavior did not deserve. All beloved
beings floated so sweetly before his mind. This was one of those moments
which all good people know; one feels one's self a member of the great
chain of love which binds creation together.

So long as the rose-bud remains folded together it seems to be without
fragrance; yet only one morning is required, and the fin