l
Youth thinks is, What a beautiful summit, or, How fair a river! and
straightway it darts joyously up the ascent, or throws itself laughing
into the bright sparkling waters. The mountain and the river are not
obstacles--they are delights. Then comes the second portion of life,
Manhood, when the obstacles are truly what they seem--hard to ascend,
trying to swim over. Then comes Age, when the sobered heart hesitates
long before commencing the ascent or essaying the crossing--when
_duty_ only prompts. Say that duty is greater than hope, and you are
right; but say that duty carries men as easily over obstacles as joy,
which loves those obstacles, and you are mistaken. Well, all this
prosing is meant to show that the real happiness of life is in
illusions. Doubtless you are convinced of it, however: already one
learns much by the time he has reached eighteen."

Hoffland mused.

Mowbray drove away his thoughts, and said, smiling sadly:

"Have you ever loved, Charles?"

"Never," murmured the boy.

"That is the master illusion," sighed Mowbray.

"And is it a happy one?"

"A painful happiness."

These short words were uttered with so much sadness, that the boy
stole a look of deep interest at his companion's face.

"Do not be angry with me, Ernest," he said, "but may I ask you if you
have ever loved?"

His head drooped, and he murmured, "Yes."

"Deeply?"

"Yes."

"Were you disappointed?"

"Yes."

And there was a long pause. They walked on in silence.

"It is a beautiful afternoon," said Mowbray at length.

"Lovely," murmured the boy.

"This stream is so fresh and pure--no bitterness in it."

"Is there in love?"

Mowbray was silent for a moment. Then he raised his head, and said to
his companion:

"Charles, listen! What I am going to tell you, may serve to place you
upon your guard against what may cause you great suffering. I know not
why, but I take a strange interest in you--coming alone into the great
world a mere youth as you are, leaving in the mountains from which you
say you come all those friends whose counsel might guide you. Listen
to me, then, as to an elder brother--a brother who has grown old early
in thought and feeling, who at twenty-five has already lived half the
life of man--at least in the brain and heart. Listen. I was always
impulsive and sanguine, always proud and self-reliant. My father was
wealthy. I was told from my boyhood that I was a genius--that I had
only to extend my