"What is to be made of him? A noble man. Is it not a mistaken course to drive a human being to goodness, by the sight of all sorts of misery and weakness? That makes him morbid, sentimental, and weak. The Greeks had a different method, that of energy, cheerfulness, self-reliance,—that makes him strong. Our virtue is no longer 'virtus,' but only a feminine hospital-work. Ah," continued Knopf, "the genuinely noble man, or the genuine man, is the unexamined man, a species no longer to be found in Europe. We are all born to be examined. That was the greatness of the Greek, that they had no examination commissions. Plato took no degree, and do you know, that is the greatness which is bringing forward a new Greece in America, that there also, properly speaking, there are no examinations."

"Don't wander so far," interposed Eric.

"Yes," Knopf went on unheeding, "Roland is the unexamined human being; he need learn nothing in order to be questioned about it. Why must every modern man become something special? 'Civis Romanus sum,' that ought to be sufficient."

Again Eric drew him back from his digression, asking,—

"Can you suggest any vocation for Roland?"

"Vocation! vocation! The best that can be learned is not found in any plan of study, and costs no school-fees. The division of callings, on which we so much pride ourselves, is nothing but a Philistine tyranny, a compulsory virtue. Common natures return payment by what they do, noble ones by what they are. Thus it is, if a noble being exists, and freely acts out his nature, he adorns humanity and benefits it. I have tried to guard in Roland a simple unconsciousness of wealth; we are not placed here merely to train ourselves to be brothers of mercy. Not every one need serve; to perfect one's self is a noble calling. I respect Cicero's maxim: 'He who does nothing is the free man.' The free man is the idler."

Eric disputed this, and Knopf was no little surprised, that Eric had the exact passage from Cicero in his memory, and could prove that Cicero only made the assertion that no man was free who was not sometimes idle: non aliquando nihil agit. He said besides that the statement of the German poet, that there could be a noble life without activity, without labor, was still more an error. He tried, however, to put an end to these general considerations. What effect could their thoughts and discussions, as they sat there on the hill-side, bring about concerning the vocation of humanity?

Knopf remarked assentingly that he had wandered too far, and said,—

"You ought to take Roland away from here."

"It would certainly be best, but you must know that it cannot be brought about."