The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 5.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

‘Now may Heaven bless the sweet enthusiast for this interruption of my bitter reflections!’ said the student, in the earnest tenderness of impassioned feeling. ‘She knows how gladly I shall obey her summons; she knows how readily I shall forsake the dogmas of our wisest schoolmen, to obey the slightest wishes of a heart pure and generous as hers.’

He passed hastily through one of the principal streets of the city to the dwelling of the lady, Eleonora.

In a large and gorgeous apartment sat the Englishman, his plain and simple garb contrasting strongly with the richness and luxury around him. He was apparently quite young, and of a tall and commanding figure. His countenance was calm and benevolent; it bore no traces of passion; care had not marked it; there was a holy serenity in its expression, which seemed a token of that inward ‘peace which passeth all understanding.’

‘And this is thy friend, Eleonora?’ said the stranger, as he offered his hand to Ernest. ‘I hear,’ he said, addressing the latter, ‘thou hast been a hard student and a lover of philosophy.’

‘I am but a humble inquirer after Truth,’ replied Ernest.

‘From whence hast thou sought it?’

‘From the sacred volume, from the lore of the old fathers, from the fountains of philosophy, and from my own brief experience of human life.’