as, what could
he know of an infinite agony? There are cases," he continued, "yes,
there are, where comfort is a lie, and despair is a duty. Go, heap your
scorn upon the noble Greek, who well knows how to delineate heroes, when
in their anguish he lets those heroes weep. He has even a proverb, 'Men
who can weep are good.' Leave me, all you with dry heart and dry eye.
Curses on the happy, to whom the wretched serve but for a spectacle.
When body and soul are torn in pieces with agony, they are to bear
it--yes, to be noble and bear it, if they are to be allowed to go off
the scene with applause. Like the gladiators, they must die gracefully
before the eyes of the multitude. My dear Mittler, I thank you for your
visit; but really you would oblige me much, if you would go out and look
about you in the garden. We will meet again. I will try to compose
myself, and become more like you."

Mittler was unwilling to let a conversation drop which it might be
difficult to begin again, and still persevered. Edward, too, was quite
ready to go on with it; besides that of itself, it was tending toward
the issue which he desired.

"Indeed," said the latter, "This thinking and arguing backward and
forward leads to nothing. In this very conversation I myself have first
come to understand myself; I have first felt decided as to what I must
make up my mind to do. My present and my future life I see before me; I
have to choose only between misery and happiness. Do you, my best
friend, bring about the separation which must take place, which, in
fact, is already made; gain Charlotte's consent for me. I will not enter
upon the reasons why I believe there will be the less difficulty in
prevailing upon her. You, my dear friend, must go. Go, and give us all
peace; make us all happy."

Mittler hesitated. Edward continued:

"My fate and Ottilie's cannot be divided, and shall not be shipwrecked.
Look at this glass; our initials are engraved upon it. A gay reveller
flung it into the air, that no one should drink of it more. It was to
fall on the rock and be dashed to pieces; but it did not fall; it was
caught. At a high price I bought it back, and now I drink out of it
daily--to convince myself that the connection between us cannot be
broken; that destiny has decided."

"Alas! alas!" cried Mittler, "what must I not endure with my friends?
Here comes superstition, which of all things I hate the worse--the most
mischievous and accursed of all the