Meantime a reading-table had been placed in the centre of the room. With cheeks glowing with embarrassment, a young girl seated herself at it, cast a hasty glance at Ottmar, and read aloud from a manuscript an essay whose subject and title were the justification of sympathy in opposition to the judgments of reason. It was simple, but written in a style free from faults; some of the ideas were not devoid of talent; and it revealed a more thorough culture than is usually to be found in young girls. _Heinrich_ perceived Cornelia's influence. His eyes rested steadily upon her; she was standing behind the reader's chair, and often looked thoughtfully at him. It was evident that she had given this subject from a recollection of him. The following essays, which were read aloud in turn by the young girls, all treated the same idea with more or less talent, and three poems reproduced it in rhyme. _Heinrich_ perceived with increasing admiration the activity of the Prison Fairy, whose strong, earnest will effected good results, even under the garb of jest, and gave purpose to the most useless things. The reading ended, and the gentlemen, in mingled jest and earnest, gave a stern criticism. Each sought the lady whose essay had made the most impression upon him,--discussed and opposed the separate points. The authoresses were obliged to defend themselves, and thus the argument continued till Cornelia, who had previously been inclosed in the circle, suddenly started up, exclaiming: "Say what you please against sympathy, it is the only true oracle among us! If our reason enjoined upon us ever so strictly to keep together as we are now, should we not rush apart to all quarters of the globe if it were not for sympathy? And if reason causes a person to appear ever so wicked, and sympathy attracts us to him, we follow the latter, and often convince ourselves that reason, which judges only by deceptive facts, misled us. Reason disjoints and severs, sympathy conciliates. Reason calculates, sympathy discovers; and, what is after all the principal thing, reason does not make people happy,--sympathy does." "Cornelia," cried the poet T--, "I have never heard you talk so before! What has become of the logic, the clearness of perception, with which you gave these young ladies the guiding threads for their essays upon this subject?" "If we were permitted to refer to this enthusiasm, we should be greatly delighted, my dear T----; but I fear it is one of her whims," said H----, the novelist. The gentle poet D---- whispered, softly, "I know what you mean, Cornelia, but I no longer understand you."