ful　rose　up；　in　wavy　curvature；　the　slope　of　thy　guardian　Hills；　of　the　greenest　was　their　sward；　embossed　with　its　dark…brown　frets　of　crag；　or　spotted　by　some　spreading　solitary　Tree　and　its　shadow。　　To　the　unconscious　Wayfarer　thou　wert　also　as　an　Ammon's　Temple；　in　the　Libyan　Waste；　where；　for　joy　and　woe；　the　tablet　of　his　Destiny　lay　written。　　Well　might　he　pause　and　gaze；　in　that　glance　of　his　were　prophecy　and　nameless　forebodings。〃
  But　now　let　us　conjecture　that　the　so　presentient　Auscultator　has　handed　in　his　_Relatio　ex　Actis_；　been　invited　to　a　glass　of　Rhine…wine；　and　so；　instead　of　returning　dispirited　and　athirst　to　his　dusty　Town…home；　is　ushered　into　the　Garden…house；　where　sit　the　choicest　party　of　dames　and　cavaliers：　　if　not　engaged　in　AEsthetic　Tea；　yet　in　trustful　evening　conversation；　and　perhaps　Musical　Coffee；　for　we　hear　of　〃harps　and　pure　voices　making　the　stillness　live。〃　　Scarcely；　it　would　seem；　is　the　Garden…house　inferior　in　respectability　to　the　noble　Mansion　itself。　〃Embowered　amid　rich　foliage；　rose…clusters；　and　the　hues　and　odors　of　thousand　flowers；　here　sat　that　brave　company；　in　front；　from　the　wide…opened　doors；　fair　outlook　over　blossom　and　bush；　over　grove　and　velvet　green；　stretching；　undulating　onwards　to　the　remote　Mountain　peaks：　so　bright；　so　mild；　and　everywhere　the　melody　of　birds　and　happy　creatures：　it　was　all　as　if　man　had　stolen　a　shelter　from　the　SUIT　in　the　bosom…vesture　of　Summer　herself。　　How　came　it　that　the　Wanderer　advanced　thither　with　such　forecasting　heart　（_ahndungsvoll_）；　by　the　side　of　his　gay　host？　　Did　he　feel　that　to　these　soft　influences　his　hard　bosom　ought　to　be　shut；　that　here；　once　more；　Fate　had　it　in　view　to　try　him；　to　mock　him；　and　see　whether　there　were　Humor　in　him？
  〃Next　moment　he　finds　himself　presented　to　the　party；　and　especially　by　name　toBlumine！　　Peculiar　among　all　dames　and　damosels　glanced　Blumine；　there　in　her　modesty；　like　a　star　among　earthly　lights。　　Noblest　maiden！　whom　he　bent　to；　in　body　and　in　soul；　yet　scarcely　dared　look　at；　for　the　presence　filled　him　with　painful　yet　sweetest　embarrassment。
  〃Blumine's　was　a　name　well　known　to　him；　far　and　wide　was　the　fair　one　heard　of；　for　her　gifts；　her　graces；　her　caprices：　　from　all　which　vague　colorings　of　Rumor；　from　the　censures　no　less　than　from　the　praises；　had　our　friend　painted　for　himself　a　certain　imperious　Queen　of　Hearts；　and　blooming　warm　Earth…angel；　much　more　enchanting　than　your　mere　white　Heaven…angels　of　women；　in　whose　placid　veins　circulates　too　little　naphtha…fire。　　Herself　also　he　had　seen　in　public　places；　that　light　yet　so　stately　form；　those　dark　tresses；　shading　a　face　where　smiles　and　sunlight　played　over　earnest　deeps：　　but　all　this　he　had　seen　only　as　a　magic　vision；　for　him　inaccessible；　almost　without　reality。　　Her　sphere　was　too　far　from　his；　how　should　she　ever　think　of　him；　O　Heaven！　how　should　they　so　much　as　once　meet　together？　　And　now　that　Rose…goddess　sits　in　the　same　circle　with　him；　the　light　of　_her_　eyes　has　smiled　on　him；　if　he　speak；　she　will　hear　it！　　Nay；　who　knows；　since　the　heavenly　Sun　looks　into　lowest　valleys；　but　Blumine　herself　might　have　aforetime　noted　the　so　unnotable；　perhaps；　from　his　very　gainsayers；　as　he　had　from　hers；　gathered　wonder；　gathered　favor　for　him？　　Was　the　attraction；　the　agitation　mutual；　then；　pole　and　pole　trembling　towards　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！
  〃The　conversation　took　a　higher　tone；　one　fine　thought　called　forth　another：　　it　was　one　of　those　rare　seasons；　when　the　soul　expands　with　full　freedom；　and　man　feels　himself　brought　near　to　man。　　Gayly　in　light；　graceful　abandonment；　the　friendly　talk　played　round　that　circle；　for　the　burden　was　rolled　from　every　heart；　the　barriers　of　Ceremony；　which　are　indeed　the　laws　of　polite　living；　had　melted　as　into　vapor；　and　the　poor　claims　of　_Me_　and　_Thee_；　no　longer　parted　by　rigid　fences；　now　flowed　softly　into　one　another；　and　Life　lay　all　harmonious；　many…tinted；　like　some　fair　royal　champaign；　the　sovereign　and　owner　of　which　were　Love　only。　Such　music　springs　from　kind　hearts；　in　a　kind　environment　of　place　and　time。　　And　yet　as　the　light　grew　more　aerial　on　the　mountaintops；　and　the　shadows　fell　longer　over　the　valley；　some　faint　tone　of　sadness　may　have　breathed　through　the　heart；　and；　in　whispers　more　or　less　audible；　reminded　every　one　that　as　this　bright　day　was　drawing　towards　its　close；　so　likewise　must　the　Day　of　Man's　Existence　decline　into　dust　and　darkness；　and　with　all　its　sick　toilings；　and　joyful　and　mournful　noises；　sink　in　the　still　Eternity。
  〃To　our　Friend　the　hours　seemed　moments；　holy　was　he　and　happy：　　the　words　from　those　sweetest　lips　came　over　him　like　dew　on　thirsty　grass；　all　better　feelings　in　his　soul　seemed　to　whisper；　It　is　good　for　us　to　be　here。　　At　parting；　the　Blumine's　hand　was　in　his：　　in　the　balmy　twilight；　with　the　kind　stars　above　them；　he　spoke　something　of　meeting　again；　which　was　not　contradicted；　he　pressed　gently　those　small　soft　fingers；　and　it　seemed　as　if　they　were　not　hastily；　not　angrily　withdrawn。〃
  Poor　Teufelsdrockh！　it　is　clear　to　demonstration　thou　art　smit：　　the　Queen　of　Hearts　would　see　a　〃man　of　genius〃　also　sigh　for　her；　and　there；　by　art…magic；　in　that　preternatural　hour；　has　she　bound　and　spell…bound　thee。　〃Love　is　not　altogether　a　Delirium；〃　says　he　elsewhere；　〃yet　has　it　many　points　in　common　therewith。　　I　call　it　rather　a　discerning　of　the　Infinite　in　the　Finite；　of　the　Idea　made　Real；　which　discerning　again　may　be　either　true　or　false；　either　seraphic　or　demoniac；　Inspiration　or　Insanity。　　But　in　the　former　case　too；　as　in　common　Madness；　it　is　Fantasy　that　superadds　itself　to　sight；　on　the　so　petty　domain　of　the　Actual　plants　its　Archimedes…lever；　whereby　to　move　at　will　the　infinite　Spiritual。　　Fantasy　I　might　call　the　true　Heaven…gate　and　Hell…gate　of　man：　　his　sensuous　life　is　but　the　small　temporary　stage　（_Zeitbuhne_）；　whereon　thick…streaming　influences　from　both　these　far　yet　near　regions　meet　visibly；　and　act　tragedy　and　melodrama。　　Sense　can　support　herself　handsomely；　in　most　countries；　for　some　eighteenpence　a　day；　but　for　Fantasy　planets　and　solar…systems　will　not　suffice。　　Witness　your　Pyrrhus　conquering　the　world；　yet　drinking　no　better　red　wine　than　he　had　before。〃　　Alas！　witness　also　your　Diogenes；　flame…clad；　scaling　the　upper　Heaven；　and　verging　towards　Insanity；　for　prize　of　a　〃high…souled　Brunette；〃　as　if　the　Earth　held　but　one　and　not　several　of　these！
  He　says　that；　in　Town；　they　met　again：　　〃day　after