I give an instance of this hardness of heart where I should have least
expected to find it in him.

He had met and joined me as I was walking to visit a patient on the
outskirts of the town, when we fell in with a group of children, just let
loose for an hour or two from their day-school. Some of these children
joyously recognized him as having played with them at their homes; they
ran up to him, and he seemed as glad as themselves at the meeting.

He suffered them to drag him along with them, and became as merry and
sportive as the youngest of the troop.

"Well," said I, laughing, "if you are going to play at leap-frog, pray
don't let it be on the high road, or you will be run over by carts and
draymen; see that meadow just in front to the left,--off with you there!"

"With all my heart," cried Margrave, "while you pay your visit. Come
along, boys."

A little urchin, not above six years old, but who was lame, began to cry;
he could not run,--he should be left behind.

Margrave stooped. "Climb on my shoulder, little one, and I'll be your
horse."

The child dried its tears, and delightedly obeyed. "Certainly," said I to
myself, "Margrave, after all, must have a nature as gentle as it is
simple. What other young man, so courted by all the allurements that
steal innocence from pleasure, would stop in the thoroughfares to play