s so many blades of grass, or a mere clod of
earth.'"

Gunther nodded a pleased assent, but the queen, in a sad voice, added:

"Yes, but this space and these people constitute my world. Is purity
merely imaginary? If it be not about us, where can it be found?"

"Within ourselves," replied Gunther. "If it dwell within us, it is
everywhere; if not, it is nowhere. He who asks for more, has not yet
passed the threshold. His heart is not yet what it should be. True love
for the things of this earth, and for God, the final cause of all, does
not ask for love in return. We love the divine spark that dwells in
creatures themselves unconscious of it: creatures who are wretched,
debased and, as the church has it, unredeemed. My master taught me that
the purest joys arise from this love of God or of eternally pure
nature. I made this truth my own, and you can and ought to do likewise.
This park is yours; but the birds that dwell in it, the air, the light,
its beauty, are not yours alone, but are shared with you by all. So
long as the world is ours, in the vulgar sense of the word, we may love
it; but when we have made it our own, in a purer and better sense, no
one can take it from us. The great thing is to be strong and to know
that hatred is death, that love alone is life, and that the amount of
love that we possess is the measure of the life and the divinity that
dwells within us."

Gunther rose and was about to withdraw. He feared lest excessive
thought might over-agitate the queen, who, however, motioned him to
remain. He sat down again.

"You cannot imagine--" said the queen, after a long pause, "but that is
one of the cant phrases that we have learned by heart. I mean just the
reverse of what I have said. You can imagine the change that your words
have effected in me."

"I can conceive it."

"Let me ask a few more questions. I believe--nay, I am sure--that on
the height you occupy, and toward which you would fain lead me, there
dwells eternal peace. But it seems so cold and lonely up there. I am
oppressed with a sense of fear, just as if I were in a balloon
ascending into a rarer atmosphere, while more and more ballast was ever
being thrown out. I don't know how to make my meaning clear to you. I
don't understand how to keep up affectionate relations with those about
me, and yet regard them from a distance, as it were--looking upon their
deeds as the mere action and reaction of natural forces. It seems to me
as if,