"If your words are meant as a reproach to my vocation," answered the Professor, "you are unjust; for we are now actively employed in making the discoveries of the learned accessible to the people. That much more should be done in this direction, I do not deny. But at all periods serious scientific investigations, even when only intelligible to a very small circle, have exercised an invisible influence on the souls and lives of the people in general. These scientific investigations develop the language, give certain tendencies to thought, gradually evolve customs, ethics, and laws, according to the needs of every age. Not only practical inventions and increasing wealth are facilitated by them; but also, what surely will not seem less important to you, the ideas of man about his own life, the manner in which he performs his duty toward others, the feeling with which he regards truth and falsehood,--for all this each one of us is indebted to the erudition of the nation, no matter how little interest he may take in the various investigations. And let me use an old simile. Science is like a great fire that must be incessantly maintained in a nation, because flint and steel are unknown to them. I am one of those whose duty it is constantly to throw fresh logs into the burning mass. It is the task of others to carry the holy flame throughout the land, to the villages and cottages. Every one whose object it is to diffuse that light, has his rights, and no one should think meanly of another." "There is some truth in that," said the host thoughtfully. "If the great fire does not burn," continued the Professor, "the single flames could not be spread. And, believe me, what most strengthens and elevates an honorable man of learning in the most difficult investigations, is the fact, confirmed by long experience, that his labors will in the end conduce to the benefit of mankind. They do not always help to invent new machines, nor discover new plants for cultivation, but they are nevertheless effective for all, when they teach what is true and untrue, beautiful and ugly, good and bad. In this sense they make millions freer, and therefore better." "I see at least by your words," said the host, "that you hold your vocation in high esteem; and I like that, for it is the characteristic of an honest man." This conversation produced a pleasant frame of mind in both men. The Inspector rose, and in a moment all the chairs of the farm dignitaries were pushed back, and the children and most of the party left the room. Only the host, Ilse, and the guests sat together for a few moments longer in pleasant conversation. Then they went into the next room, where coffee was prepared. Ilse poured it out, while the Proprietor from his seat scrutinized the unexpected guests. The Professor set the empty cup down and began: "Our task here is ended, and we have to thank you for a hospitable reception. But I do not like to part without once more reminding you--"