contact, when once brought into neighborhood?  Say rather, heart swelling in presence of the Queen of Hearts; like the Sea swelling when once near its Moon!  With the Wanderer it was even so:  as in heavenward gravitation, suddenly as at the touch of a Seraph’s wand, his whole soul is roused from its deepest recesses; and all that was painful and that was blissful there, dim images, vague feelings of a whole Past and a whole Future, are heaving in unquiet eddies within him.

“Often, in far less agitating scenes, had our still Friend shrunk forcibly together; and shrouded up his tremors and flutterings, of what sort soever, in a safe cover of Silence, and perhaps of seeming Stolidity.  How was it, then, that here, when trembling to the core of his heart, he did not sink into swoons, but rose into strength, into fearlessness and clearness?  It was his guiding Genius (Damon) that inspired him; he must go forth and meet his Destiny.  Show thyself now, whispered it, or be forever hid.  Thus sometimes it is even when your anxiety becomes transcendental, that the soul first feels herself able to transcend it; that she rises above it, in fiery victory; and borne on new-found wings of victory, moves so calmly, even because so rapidly, so irresistibly.  Always must the Wanderer remember, with a certain satisfaction and surprise, how in this case he sat not silent but struck adroitly into the stream of conversation; which thenceforth, to speak with an apparent not a real vanity, he may say that he continued to lead.  Surely, in those hours, a certain inspiration was imparted him, such inspiration as is still possible in our late era.  The self-secluded unfolds himself in noble thoughts, in free, glowing words; his soul is as one sea of light, the peculiar home of Truth and Intellect; wherein also Fantasy bodies forth form after form, radiant with all prismatic hues.”

It appears, in this otherwise so happy meeting, there talked one “Philisitine;” who even now, to the general weariness, was dominantly pouring forth Philistinism (Philistriositaten.); little witting what hero was here entering to demolish him!  We omit the series of Socratic, or rather Diogenic utterances, not unhappy in their way, whereby the monster, “persuaded into silence,” seems soon after to have withdrawn for the night.  “Of which dialectic marauder,” writes our hero, “the discomfiture was visibly felt as a benefit by most:  but what were all applauses to the glad smile, threatening every moment to become a laugh, wherewith Blumine herself repaid the victor?  He ventured to address her she answered with attention:  nay what if there were a slight tremor in that silver voice; what if the red glow of evening were hiding a transient blush!