s the philosophy of Mark Winsome."

Though portions of this harangue may, perhaps, in the phraseology seem
self-complaisant, yet no trace of self-complacency was perceptible in
the speaker's manner, which throughout was plain, unassuming, dignified,
and manly; the teacher and prophet seemed to lurk more in the idea, so
to speak, than in the mere bearing of him who was the vehicle of it.

"Sir," said the cosmopolitan, who seemed not a little interested in this
new aspect of matters, "you speak of a certain philosophy, and a more or
less occult one it may be, and hint of its bearing upon practical life;
pray, tell me, if the study of this philosophy tends to the same
formation of character with the experiences of the world?"

"It does; and that is the test of its truth; for any philosophy that,
being in operation contradictory to the ways of the world, tends to
produce a character at odds with it, such a philosophy must necessarily
be but a cheat and a dream."

"You a little surprise me," answered the cosmopolitan; "for, from an
occasional profundity in you, and also from your allusions to a profound
work on the theology of Plato, it would seem but natural to surmise
that, if you are the originator of any philosophy, it must needs so
partake of the abstruse, as to exalt it above the comparatively vile
uses of life."

"No uncommon mistake with regard to me," rejoined the other. Then meekly
standing like a Raphael: "If still in golden accents old Memnon murmurs
his riddle, none the less does the balance-sheet of every man's ledger
unriddle the profit or loss of life. Sir," with calm energy, "man came
into this world, not to sit down and muse, not to befog himself with
vain subtleties, but to gird up his loins and to work. Mystery is in the
morning, and mystery in the night, and the beauty of mystery is
everywhere; but still the plain truth remains, that mouth and purse must
be filled. If, hitherto, you have supposed me a visionary, be
undeceived. I am no one-ideaed one, either; no more than the seers
before me. Was not Seneca a usurer? Bacon a courtier? and Swedenborg,
though with one eye on the invisible, did he not keep the other on the
main chance? Along with whatever else it may be given me to be, I am a
man of serviceable knowledge, and a man of the world. Know me for such.
And as for my disciple here," turning towards him, "if you look to find
any soft Utopianisms and last year's sunsets in him, I smile to think