"Would you like to go with me," said Klingsohr, "and breakfast on a beautiful eminence just before the city? The fine morning would refresh you. Dress yourself. Matilda is already waiting for us." Henry with a thousand joyful feelings thanked him for his welcome invitation. In a moment he was ready, and kissed Klingsohr's hand with much fervor. They went to Matilda, who looked wonderfully lovely in her simple morning dress, and who greeted him kindly. She had already packed her breakfast into a little basket which she hung upon one arm, and without ceremony gave the other to Henry. Klingsohr followed them, and thus they passed through the city, already full of animation, to a little hill by the river, where a wide and full prospect opened between some lofty trees. "Though I have often," said Henry, "delighted in the unfolding of varied nature in the peaceful neighborhood of her manifold possessions; yet never has such a creative and pure serenity filled me, as today. Those distant points seem so near to me, and the rich landscape is like an inward fantasy. How changeable is nature, however unchangeable appears its surface! How different is it when an angel, a spirit of power is at our side, than when a person in distress utters his complaints before us, or a farmer tells us how unfortunate the weather is for him, or how much he needs some rainy days for his crops. To you, dearest master, do I owe this bliss; yes, this bliss,--for there is no other word that can more truly express my heart's condition. Joy, desire, transport, are merely the members of that bliss which inspires them with a higher life." He pressed Matilda's hand to his heart, and his ardent gaze sank deep into her mild and susceptible eyes. "Nature," replied Klingsohr, "is for our mind, what a body is for light. It reflects it, separates it into its proper colors, kindles a light on its surface or within it, when it equals its opacity: when it is superior, it rays forth in order to enlighten other bodies. But even the darkest bodies can, by water, fire, and air, be made clear and brilliant." "I understand you, dear master. Men are crystals for our minds. They are the transparent nature. Dear Matilda, I might call you a pure and costly sapphire. You are clear and transparent as the heavens; you beam with the mildest light. But tell me, dear master, whether I am right; it seems to me that at the very point when one is most intimate with nature, he can and would say the least concerning her."