CHAPTER XII.
TIME GOES.
Life has its moments of strength and bloom; its bright moments of inspiration, in which the human artist (the painter of earthly life) seizes on, and utters the supremely pure, the supremely beautiful, the divine.

If, in such moments, everything in human life were executed; if then sacrifices were made, work accomplished, victories won, there would be but little difficulty in life.

But the difficult part is to preserve, through a long course of years, the flame which has been kindled by inspiration! to preserve it while the storms come and go, while the everlasting dust-rain of the moments falls and falls; to preserve it still and uniform, amidst the uniform changing of uniform days and nights.

To do this, strength from above is required; repeated draughts from the fountain of inspiration; both for the great and the small--for all labourers on earth.
It was the good fortune of Ernst and Elise that they knew this; and knew also how to avail themselves of it.

On this account they succeeded more and more in conquering their natural failings; on this account they came nearer to each other by every little step, which in itself is so unobservable, but which yet, at the same time, twines so firmly and lovingly together the human heart and life, and which may be contained in the rubric--_regard for mutual inclinations, interest for mutual interests_.
Through this new-born intimacy of heart, this strengthening and pure affection, Elise assumed a secure and noble standing with regard to Jacobi.