o it is, that
even they who grow rich by the thoughtless profligate, despise him, and
cannot withhold their respect from the worthy man who avoids them. In
this unworthy manner have I flung away my time and fortune, to purchase
contempt."

"Be calm, my son," cried Eulenboeck, "thou hast also done good to many a
poor family."

"Let nothing be said of that," answered Edward, despondingly; "that too
was done without judgment, as it was without judgment I spent, without
judgment travelled, played and drank, and knew not how to secure a
cheerful hour for myself or others."

"That indeed is bad," said the old man, "and, as far as the precious
wine is concerned, a sin. But cheer up and drink, ye brave mates, and
rouse our host to the mood which becomes him."

There was however no need of this exhortation, for the company was
indefatigable. Even young Dietrich drank stoutly, and Eulenboeck
arranged the order in which the wines were to follow one another.
"To-day is the trial!" he cried: "the battle must be won, and the
conqueror shews no mercy to the conquered. Look on my martial
countenance, ye young heroes, here have I hung out the threatening
blood-red banner, as a sign that no mercy is to be found. Nothing in
the world, my friends, is so misunderstood as the apparently simple act
which men superficially call drinking, and there is no boon to which
less justice is done, which is so little prized, as wine. If I could
wish ever to become useful to the world, I would induce an enlightened
government to erect a peculiar chair, from which I might instruct our
ignorant species in the admirable properties of wine. Who does not like
to drink? There are but few unfortunate persons, who can with truth
assert this of themselves. But it is a misery to see how they drink,
without the least gusto, without style, light and shade, so that one
hardly finds the vestige of a school; at the utmost colouring, which
the insolent puppies presently fasten on their noses, and hang out as a
trophy in the sight of the world."

"And how is one properly to begin?" asked Dietrich.

"In the first place," rejoined the old man, "the foundation must be
laid, as in all arts, by quiet humility and simple faith. Only no
premature criticism, no inquisitive, impertinent snuffling, but a
generous, confident self-devotion. When the scholar has made some
progress, he may now begin to discriminate; and if the wine does but
meet with a desire of learning and s