resignation, the men of former days
experienced, in growing confidence, in increasing tenderness, and
reciprocal indulgence for each other's infirmities, a happiness which
appears too trivial to the present arrogant generation, and it
therefore rears in the garden of life no fruits but wretchedness and
want, discontent and misunderstanding, discord and contempt. Early
habituated to the intoxication of passion, they seek the same in
wedlock, and despise the necessary duties of ordinary life, renew their
love-tricks at every turn in reiterated variations which have
constantly less and less of novelty, and so are lost in worthlessness
and self-delusion."

"Very bitter, but true," said the Unknown, with a thoughtful air.

"It is with this as with all bitters," whispered Sophia, "they fall too
heavy on the palate; one cannot rightly distinguish whether it is a
taste, or whether it only deadens all taste; such things are of course
true for one who likes them."

Eulenboeck, who had also heard this remark, laughed, and the father, who
had only half caught what had passed, addressed himself gaily to his
unknown guest: "We are agreed then that none but marriages of
convenience, as they are called, can be prosperous; and I shall never
hesitate to give my only daughter, who will not be portionless or poor,
to a man, whatever be his rank, whose character I esteem, and whose
acquirements, particularly on the subject of the arts, I have reason to
respect, that my grandchildren may still reap the fruits of my
industry, and that the treasures which have been collected in this
mansion by love for the arts, self-denial, study, and indefatigable
diligence, be not scattered to the four winds, and over the houses of
the ignorant."

He looked at the stranger with a complacent smile; but the latter, who
till now had graciously met his advances, put on something like a
scowl, and said after a short pause: "The collections of private
persons can never subsist long; a lover of the arts, if he has made a
collection, should sell his treasures at a fair price to some prince,
or embody them by his will in some great gallery. For this reason I
cannot approve of your plan with regard to your daughter, though I
agree with you in your views of matrimony. And in any case marriage is
an affair full of risk. If I were not engaged, and compelled by a
thousand urgent motives not to break my word, my inclination would lead
me never to marry."

The old