144 THE MERCHANT’S DREAM.

 

between the highly gifted soul and bales
of cotton or pieces of silk? Between the
human mind and the dull, insensible ob-
jects of trade? Nothing! Nothing! How
sadly do we waste our lives in the mere
pursuit of gold! And after the glittering
earth is gained, are we any happier? I
think not. The lover of truth—the wise,
contemplative hermit in his cell is more a
man than Algeron !”

Thus mused the merchant, and thus he
gave utterance to his thoughts—sighing as
he closed each sentence. The book that
he loved was put aside—the instrument
from which his skilful hand drew eloquent
music lay hushed upon a table. He was
unhappy. He had remained thus for some
time, when the door of his room opened,
and a beautiful being entered and stood be-
fore him. Her countenance was calm and
elevated, yet full of sweet benevolence.
For a moment she looked at the unhappy
merchant, then extending her hand, she
said—