od
appetite, and then lay down on his cushion to sleep. As I returned home,
well pleased to think of playing with my little comrade, he lay dead on
his cushion!"

Mrs. Gunilla and he talked for a long time about the little favourite,
and appeared in consequence to become very good friends.

Jeremias Munter was this evening in a more censorious humour than
common. His eyes rested with a sad expression on the newly betrothed.

"Yes," said he, as if speaking to himself, "if one had only confidence
in oneself; if one was only clear as to one's own motives--then one
might have some ground to hope that one could make another happy, and
could be happy with them."

"One must know oneself thus well, so far," said Louise, not without a
degree of confidence, "that one can be certain of doing so, before one
would voluntarily unite one's fate with that of another."

"_Thus well!_" returned he, warmly. "Yes, prosit! Who knows thus well?
You do not, dear sister, that I can assure you. Ah!" continued he, with
bitter melancholy, "one may be horribly deceived in oneself, and by
oneself, in this life. There is no one in this world who, if he rightly
understand himself, has not to deplore some infidelity to his
friend--his love--his better self! The self-love, the miserable egotism
of human nature, where is there a corner that it does not slide into?
The wretched little _I_, how it thrusts itself forward! how thoughts of
self, designs for self, blot actions which otherwise might be called
good!"

"Do you then acknowledge no virtue? Is there, then, no magnanimity, no
excellence, which you can admire?" asked some one. "Does not history
show us----"

"History!" interrupted he, "don't speak of history--don't bring it
forward! No, if I am to believe in virtue, it is such as history cannot
meddle with or understand; it is only in that which plays no great part
in the world, which never, never could have been applauded by it, and
which is not acted publicly. Of this kind it is possible that something
entirely beautiful, something perfectly pure and holy, might be found. I
will believe in it, although I do not discover it in myself. I have
examined my own soul, and can find nothing pure in it; but that it _may_
be found in others, I believe. My heart swells with the thought that
there may exist perfectly pure and unselfish virtue. Good heaven, how
beautiful it is! And wherever such a soul may be found in the world, be
it in palace or in h