so many things
that lie heavily on our hearts. Stay yet awhile; we know every foot of
the way and can accompany you afterwards. The gentleman you expect may
yet turn up. Look over yonder on the Rhine: what is that we see so
clearly floating on the surface of the water as if surrounded by the
light of many torches? It is there that we may look for your friend, I
would even venture to say that it is he who is coming towards you with
all those lights."

And so much did we assail the surprised old man with our entreaties,
promises, and fantastic delusions, that we persuaded the philosopher
to walk to and fro with us on the little plateau, "by learned lumber
undisturbed," as my friend added.

"Shame on you!" said the philosopher, "if you really want to quote
something, why choose Faust? However, I will give in to you, quotation
or no quotation, if only our young companions will keep still and not
run away as suddenly as they made their appearance, for they are like
will-o'-the-wisps; we are amazed when they are there and again when
they are not there."

My friend immediately recited--

Respect, I hope, will teach us how we may
Our lighter disposition keep at bay.
Our course is only zig-zag as a rule.

The philosopher was surprised, and stood still. "You astonish me, you
will-o'-the-wisps," he said; "this is no quagmire we are on now. Of
what use is this ground to you? What does the proximity of a
philosopher mean to you? For around him the air is sharp and clear,
the ground dry and hard. You must find out a more fantastic region for
your zig-zagging inclinations."

"I think," interrupted the philosopher's companion at this point, "the
gentlemen have already told us that they promised to meet some one
here at this hour; but it seems to me that they listened to our comedy
of education like a chorus, and truly 'idealistic spectators'--for
they did not disturb us; we thought we were alone with each other."

"Yes, that is true," said the philosopher, "that praise must not be
withheld from them, but it seems to me that they deserve still higher
praise----"

Here I seized the philosopher's hand and said: "That man must be as
obtuse as a reptile, with his stomach on the ground and his head
buried in mud, who can listen to such a discourse as yours without
becoming earnest and thoughtful, or even excited and indignant.
Self-accusation and annoyance might perhaps cause a few to get angry;
but our impression wa