"I agree with your premise and consequent conclusion in this particular instance, but with regard to the general proposition you assert, allow me to say that many works that form an epoch in literature would have no great excellence, if it were necessary to be a perfect man in order to write a good book."
Ilse looked timidly at the learned lady who had ventured to oppose her husband.
"Yet we will come to an agreement," continued the Professor's wife, fluently, as if she were reading from a book. "It is not requisite for every valuable work that its author should be a man of character, but he who truly has this noble qualification, would be unlikely to produce anything which would have an unfavorable influence on his branch of learning; undoubtedly the weaknesses of a learned work originate more frequently than one supposes in the author's weakness of character."
The Professor nodded assentingly.
"For," she continued, "the position which a scholar assumes with respect to the great questions of the day, affecting his branch of learning--nay, with respect even to the advantages and deficiencies of his method--may generally be explained from his character. You have always lived in the country," she said, turning to Ilse. "It would be instructive to me to learn what impression you have received of the mutual relations of people in the town."
"I have met but few as yet," rejoined Ilse, timidly.
"Of course," said Mrs. Struvelius. "But I mean that you will observe with surprise that near neighborhood does not always imply intimate intercourse. But Struvelius must be told you are here."
She rose, opened the door of the next room, and standing bolt upright by the door, called out:
"Professor and Mrs. Werner!"
A slight murmur and the hasty rustling of leaves of a book were heard in the adjoining room. The wife closed the door and continued: