"Perhaps I am, Wohlfart." "Oh ho!" cried Anton; "and what has brought this change about?
Was it some experience of your own?
It must have been, I am sure." "Whatever it was," said Bernhard, with a smile that irradiated his face, "I believe that with us, too, beauty and loveliness are to be found; that with us, too, life can give birth to great passions, holy joys, and bitter griefs; and I believe," continued he, mournfully, "that even with us many sink under the burden of a terrible destiny." Anton listened anxiously to these words, and remarked that the large eyes of the invalid shone with a sudden inspiration.
"No doubt," said he, "it is as you say, but the fairest and most ennobling thing this life can boast is the triumph of the mind over all external influences.

I honor the man who lets neither his passions nor his destiny overpower him, but who, even if he have erred, can tear himself away and regain his liberty." "But how if it be too late, and if the force of circumstances be stronger than he ?" "I am not willing to believe in such force of circumstances," replied Anton.

"I imagine that, however sore pressed a man may be, if he sets himself to work in earnest, he may hew his way out.

True, he will bear the scars of such an encounter, but, like a soldier's, there will be honor in them.

Or, even if he does not overcome, he can at least fight valiantly, and if conquered at last, he deserves the sympathy of all; but he who yields himself up without resistance, the wind blows such away from the face of the earth." "No spell will change down into stone, sings the poet," said Bernhard, taking a feather from his pillow and brushing it away.