only
that, but (begging your pardon for saying so) he often went so far as
to give us to understand that you were really nobody other than
Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew."

"Why not the Pied Piper of Hamelin? or the King of the Kobolds?"
cried the goldsmith. "All the same, there is some foundation for the
idea that there is something a little out of the everyday line about
me--something which I don't care to talk about, for fear of giving rise
to 'unpleasantness.' I certainly did some good turns to your papa, by
means of my secret knowledge, or 'art.' He was particularly pleased
with the horoscope which I cast for you at your birth."

"It wasn't so very clear, though," Edmund said. "My father often told
me you said I should be a great something--either a great Artist, or a
great Ass. At all events, I have to thank this utterance for my
father's having given consent to my wish to be a painter; and don't you
think your horoscope is going to turn out true?"

"Oh, most certainly," the goldsmith answered, very dryly; "there can be
no doubt about that. At this moment you are in the fairest possible way
to turn out a very remarkable Ass."

"What!" cried Edmund--"you tell me so to my face!--you----"

"It rests altogether with yourself," the goldsmith said, "to avoid the
bad alternative of my horoscope, and turn out a very remarkable
Painter. Your drawings and sketches show that you have a rich and
lively imagination, much power of expression, and a great deal of
cleverness in execution. You may raise a grand edifice on those
foundations. Carefully keep away from all 'modish' exaggerations and
eccentricities, and apply yourself to serious study. I congratulate you
upon your efforts to imitate the grave, earnest simpleness of the old
German masters. But, even in that direction, you must carefully shun
the precipice which so many fall over. It needs a profound
intelligence, and a mind strong enough to resist the enervating
influence of the Modern School, to grasp, wholly, the true spirit of
the old German masters, and to penetrate completely into the
significance of their pictures. Without those qualifications, the true
spark will never kindle in an artist's heart, nor the genuine
inspiration produce works which, without being imitations, shall be
worthy of a better age. Nowadays young fellows think that when they
patch together something on a Biblical subject, with figures all skin
and bone, faces a yard long, stiff angular d