To be kind and patient, to hope and endure all things, was the duty love imposed upon her. When she had closed the bible and was preparing to go to Henrica, Barbara ushered Janus Dousa into the room. The young nobleman to-day wore armor and gorget, and looked far more like a soldier than a scientist or poet. He had sought Peter in vain at the town-hall, and hoped to find him at home. One of the messengers sent to the Prince had returned from Dortrecht with a letter, which conferred on Dousa the office made vacant by Allertssohn's death. He was to command not only the city-guard, but all the armed force. He had accepted the appointment with cheerful alacrity, and requested Maria to inform her husband. "Accept my congratulations," said the burgomaster's wife. "But what will now become of your motto: 'Ante omnia Musae?'" "I shall change the words a little and say: 'Omnia ante Musas." "Do you understand that jargon, child?" asked Barbara. "A passport will be given the Muses," replied Maria gaily. Janus was pleased with the ready repartee and exclaimed: "How bright and happy you look! Faces free from care are rare birds in these days." Maria blushed, for she did not know how to interpret the words of the nobleman, who understood how to reprove with subtle mockery, and answered naively: "Don't think me frivolous, Junker. I know the seriousness of the times, but I have just finished a silent confession and discovered many bad traits in my character, but also the desire to replace them with more praiseworthy ones." "There, there," replied Janus. "I knew long ago that you had formed a friendship in the Delft school with my old sage. 'Know thyself,' was the Greek's principal lesson, and you wisely obey it. Every silent confession, every desire for inward purification, must begin with the purpose of knowing ourselves and, if in so doing we unexpectedly encounter things which tend to make our beloved selves uncomely, and have the courage to find them just as hideous in ourselves as in others--" "Abhorrence will come, and we shall have taken the first step towards improvement." "No, dear lady, we shall then stand on one of the higher steps. After hours of long, deep thought, Socrates perceived--do you know what?" "That he knew nothing at all. I shall arrive at this perception more speedily." "And the Christian learns it at school," said Barbara, to join in the conversation. "All knowledge is botchwork."