he then advanced a step further; and this was to demonstrate that
to every success in life there was a compromise attached, as inseparable
as were shadow and substance.

"Was there not," he would say, "a compensation attached to every great
act of statesmanship, to every brilliant success in war,--in fact, to
every grand achievement, wherever and however accomplished? It is simply
a question of weighing the evil against the good, whatever we do in
life; and he is the best of us who has the largest balance in the scales
of virtue."

When a subtle theory takes possession of the mind, it is curious to
mark with what ingenuity examples will suggest themselves to sustain
and support it. Ysaffich possessed a ready memory, and never failed to
supply me with illustrations of his system. There was scarcely a good
or great name of ancient or modern times that he could not bring within
this category; and many an hour have we passed in disputing the claims
of this one or that to be accounted as the benefactor or the enemy of
mankind. If I recall these memories now, it is simply to show the steps
by which a mind far more subtle and acute than my own succeeded in
establishing its influence over me.

I have said that we were very poor; our resources were derived from
the scantiest of all supplies; and even these, as the spring drew nigh,
showed signs of failure. If I at times regarded our future with gloomy
anticipations, my companion never did so. On the contrary, his hopeful
spirit seemed to rise under the pressure of each new sufferance, and he
constantly cheered me by saying, "The tide must ebb soon." It is true,
this confidence did not prevent him suggesting various means by which we
might eke out a livelihood.

"It is the same old story over again," said he to me one day, as we sat
at our meal of dry bread and water. "Archimedes could have moved the
world had he had a support whereon to station his lever, and so with me;
I could at" this very moment rise to wealth and power, could I but find
a similar appliance. There is a million to be made on the Bourse of
Amsterdam any morning, if one only could pay for a courier who should
arrive at speed from the Danube with the news of a defeat of the French
army. A lighted tar-barrel in the midst of the English fleet at Spithead
would n't cost a deal of money, and yet might do great things towards
changing the fortunes of mankind. And even here," added he, taking a
letter from his po