“Yes,” he said, in answer to an inquiry, “I have read how, in former times, the workers in art, and especially the writer were seriously handicapped.  The struggle for bread often sapped the strength which ought to have gone into the producing of a picture, a piece of statuary, or a book.  Fear of some day wanting the necessities of life drove men to think of nothing else but the making of money; and when sometimes men and women were driven by the strong impulse of expression to neglect somewhat the ‘Making a living,’ they nearly starved.  How could the best work be produced under such conditions?  I marvel at what was done, nevertheless.”

After spending a pleasant and profitable hour with the writer, the three visitors went on their way.  They partook of some lunch at one of the public eating houses, then they went out farther into the country to look at the farms and gardens.  Lines of easy and rapid transit extended in every direction, so that it took but a few minutes for Paulus and his friends to arrive at the place they desired.  They alighted at an orchard, looked at the growing fruit and listened to the orchardist’s explanations.  After they had been left to themselves, Paulus continued: 

“I want you to see and taste a certain kind of apple that this man has produced.  Apples are his specialty.”  He led the way to another part of the orchard, and found a number of ripening apples which he gave his friends.  “What do you think of them?” he asked.

“Most delicious!” they both exclaimed.  “This might be the identical fruit that tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden,” remarked Remand.

As they walked amid the trees, the conversation reverted again to the writer of books whom they had just left.

“This author’s royalties must be very great—­” began the King’s counselor, and then checked himself when he remembered the conditions about him.

“Royalties?” replied Paulus; “yes, they are great; but they are not in money or material wealth.  They consist in the vast amount of help, encouragement, hope, and true happiness he brings to his readers.”

“But do not men like treasure for treasure’s sake?  Have your very natures changed?” asked the King.

“To some extent our natures have changed, but not altogether in this.  Men and women still like to lay up treasures.  It is an inevitable law that when men do some good to others, credit is given them for that good in the Book of Life.  This wealth of good deeds may accumulate until one may become a veritable millionaire; and this treasure can never be put to an unrighteous use; moth can not corrupt it, nor thieves break through and steal.”

“One more question,” asked Remand.  “I observed that your novelist had a beautiful house, many rare books, and some priceless paintings and pieces of sculptured marble.  Are these among the ‘needs’ that you have spoken of so many times?”

“To him, certainly.  Each man gets that which will aid him most in his particular line of work.  Those things are not needless luxuries or extravagances.  The writer is surrounded by beautiful things that he may be influenced by them to produce the most beautiful literature, just the same as any other laborer is provided with the best tools, helps, and environments that he may produce the best work.”