of his intellect and his senses, it often seemed as though he was present
at a discussion between two guests who were exchanging their opinions
concerning the subject that occupied his mind.

Here he first learned to deepen sound intellectual power and listen to
the demands of the heart, or to repulse and condemn them.

Ah, yes, he was still blind; but never had he observed and recognised
human life and its stage, down to the minutest detail, which his eyes
refused to show him, so keenly as during these clays. The phenomena
which had attracted or repelled his vision here appeared nearer and more
distinctly.

What he called "reality" and believed he understood thoroughly and
estimated correctly, now disclosed many a secret which had previously
remained concealed.

How defective his visual perception had been! how necessary it now
seemed to subject his judgment to a new test! Doubtless a wealth of
artistic subjects had come to him from the world of reality which he had
placed far above everything else, but a greater and nobler one from the
sphere which he had shunned as unfruitful and corrupting.

As if by magic, the world of ideality opened before him in this exquisite
silence. He again found in his own soul the joyous creative forces of
Nature, and the surrounding stillness increased tenfold his capacity of
perceiving it; nay, he felt as if creative energy dwelt in solitude
itself.

His mind had always turned toward greatness. The desire to impress his