on enquiry, what the noise of the firing might have before made plain to him, that all went well for the French, and there was no chance of their retreat. Having reached his house, full of illhumour, the sight of his wounded and captured countrymen drove him altogether from his usual self-command. He, too, had various benefactions bestowed upon those passing by; but only the Germans were to have them, which was not always possible, because destiny had heaped together friends and foes.

My mother and we children, who had previously reckoned on the Count's word, and had therefore passed a tolerably quiet day, were highly pleased, and my mother doubly comforted, when she enquired the next day at the oracle of her little treasure-box by means of the point of a needle, and received a very cheering answer for the present as well as the future. We wished our father the same faith and the same feelings; we flattered him all we could; we entreated him to take some food, which he had abstained from all day. But he rejected our caresses and every kind of enjoyment, and betook himself to his room.

Our

joy, nevertheless, was not disturbed; the business was decided; the King's lieutenant, who, contrary to his custom, had to-day been on horseback, returned at last, and his presence at home was more necessary than ever. We sprang to meet him, kissed his hands, and expressed our joy to him. This seemed to give him much pleasure. "Well," he said, more mildly than usual, "I am glad also on your account, my dear children!" He immediately ordered us sweetmeats, sweet wine, and the best of every thing, and went to his apartment, surrounded already by a throng of the urgent, the clamant, and the suppliant.

We had now a rich collation-pitied our good father who could not share in it, and pressed my mother to call him. But she had more prudence, and knew well how unpleasant such gifts would be to him. Meanwhile she had prepared some supper, and would fain have sent it to his room, but he never permitted such an irregularity, not even in the extremest cases; and after the sweet presesnts had been put aside, we tried to persuade him to come down into the usual eating-room. At last he let himself be prevailed on unwil

lingly, and we had no foreboding of the mischief which we were preparing for him and for ourselves. The staircase ran freely through the whole house, past all the sitting-rooms. My father, in going down, could not pass by the Count's apartment. His anteroom was so full of people, that, in order to get through more at once, he would come out, and this unhappily took place in the moment when my father was passing. The Count went up to him cheerfully, and said, "You must congratulate me and yourself that this dangerous business is so well ended." "Not at all!" answered my father, with rage, "I wish it had sent you to the devil, even if I had been forced to keep you company." The Count paused a moment, but then burst out furiously, "You shall suffer for this. You shall find that it is not for nothing you offered this insult to the good cause and to me!"

In the mean while my father came quietly down, seated himself near us, seemed more cheerful than usual, and began to eat. We rejoiced at this, and did not know in how perilous a way he had rolled the stone off his heart. Soon after my mother was called out, and we had great delight in chattering to my father of all the sweet things that the Count had given us. My mother did not come back. At last the interpreter came in. On a hint from him we were sent to bed, and as it was already late, we obeyed willingly. After a night of quiet sleep, we heard of the violent movement which had shaken the house on the previous evening. The King's lieutenant had immediately commanded my father to be taken to the guard-house. The subalterns were perfectly aware that he was never to be contradicted; but they had often earned thanks by delaying their obedience. The interpreter, so closely connected with my mother, and whose presence of mind never abandoned him, was able to excite this disposition very strongly in them. The confusion besides was so great, that a delay naturally concealed and excused itself. He had called out my mother, and put her, as it were, into the hands of the aides-de camp, that by entreaties and representations she might gain at least a little time. He himself hastened quietly up to the Count, who, from his great self-command, had immediately retired into his inner room and rather let the most urgent business stop for a while, than wreak on an innocent person the bad feeling which had been excited in him, and give a decision unworthy of his dignity.

of

The address of the interpreter to the Count, and the course the whole conversation, were often enough repeated to us by the fat mediator, who exulted not a little in his success. Thus I am still able to repeat what passed.

The interpreter had intended to open the cabinet and enter, an act which was held highly penal.

"What do you want?" exclaimed the Count angrily to him. "Begone! No one but Saint Jean has a right to enter here."

"Take me, then, a moment for Saint Jean," answered the interpreter.

"A strong imagination would be needed for that. Two of him would not make one like you. Leave me " "Count, you have received a great gift from heaven, and to it I appeal." "You try to flatter me! But do not think you will succeed."

"Count, you have the great gift of listening to the opinions of others even in moments of passion of anger."

"Very many. What! do these towns pretend to be imperial towns? They saw their Emperor elected and crowned, and when, from an unjust attack, he is in danger of losing his dominions and yielding to an usurper, when he fortunately finds faithful allies who spend their gold, their blood for his advantage-they will not endure the slight burden which they must bear as their share towards humbling the enemy."

"In truth, you have long known these opinions, and have put up with them like a wise man. Besides, the culpable are but the smaller number. A few, dazzled by the brilliant qualities of the enemy, whom you yourself value as an extraordinary man-only a few-you know it well?"

"Yes, indeed! I have known it too long, and endured it. Otherwise this man would not have dared, at a most important time, to utter such injuries

to my face. Be they as many as they may, they shall be punished in the person of this audacious representative, and so learn what they have to ex. pect."

"Count, only some delay!"

"In certain matters one cannot proceed too quickly."

"Only a short delay."

"Neighbour, you think you can mislead me to a false step, but you shall not succeed."

" I neither wish to mislead you to a false step, nor to restrain you from a false one. Your resolution is just; it becomes the Frenchman, the King's lieutenant; but consider that you are also Count Thorane."

"He has nothing to say to us here." "Yet the worthy man has also a claim to be heard."

"What then is it that he would say?"

"Sir King's Lieutenant!" would he say, "you have had patience so long with so many gloomy, unwilling, blundering men, while they did not go altogether too far. This one, in truth, has gone very far; but prevail on yourself, Sir King's Lieutenant! and every one will praise and extol you for it."

"You know that I often put up with your jokes; but do not abuse my indulgence. Are these men, then, entirely blinded? Had we lost the battle, what, at this moment, would be their fate? We fight up to the gates; • we close them behind us; we halt; we defend ourselves in order to cover our retreat over the bridge. Do you suppose the enemy would have put his hands in his pockets? He throws grenades and every thing within his reach, and the fire catches where it What, then, does this precious householder want? He would have, perhaps, a shell bursting in these rooms, and another following it; in these rooms where I spared his cursed Chinese paper, and put myself to inconvenience by not nailing up my maps! They ought to have spent the whole day upon their knees."

can.

"How many have done so?"

"They should have been praying for a blessing on us, and have gone to meet the generals and officers with emblems of honour and of joy, and the wearied soldiers with refreshments. Instead of which, the poison of this party spirit destroys those fairest, happiest hours of my life, even with so many anxieties and efforts."

"It is party spirit. But you will only increase it by punishing this man. Those of his opinion will cry out on you as a tyrant and barbarian. They will regard him as a martyr who has suffered for the good cause. Even those on the other side, now his opponents, will then see in him only their fellow-citizen, will compassionate him; and while they allow that you are just, will yet think that you have proceeded too harshly."

" I have listened to you too long. Now be good enough to go!"

"Hear only this! Consider that it is the most unheard-of thing that could possibly happen to this man, to this family. You have had no reason to be pleased with the good-will of the master. But the mistress of the house has anticipated all your wishes, and the children have regarded you as their uncle. With this one blow you will destroy for ever the peace and happiness of this dwelling. Nay, I may well say that a bomb-shell falling in the house would not have caused greater havoc in it. Count! I have often admired your self-command. You may give me reason to adore you. It is noble of a warrior to regard himself in an enemy's house as only a guest; here there is no enmity, only error. Prevail so far upon yourself, and you will gain eternal renown!"

"That would be a marvellous consequence," answered the Count, with a smile.

"Only the natural one," replied the interpreter. "I have not sent the wife, the children to your feet; for I know that such scenes are a vexation to you. But I would paint the wife and child ren to you, and all their thanks. I would paint them to you conversing all their lives about the day of the bat. tle at Berg, and about your magnanimity, relating it to their children and children's children, and inspiring even strangers with their own feelings towards you. An act of this kind cannot perish."

"You do not touch my weak side, Mr Interpreter; I do not concern myself about posthumous repute; it is for others, not for me. But, to do right at the moment, not to postpone my

duties, to yield no jot of my honourthis is my anxiety. We have already talked too much. Now go and get the thanks of the thankless, whom I spare!"

The interpreter, surprised and affected by this unlooked-for happiness, could not refrain from tears, and tried to kiss the Count's hands. The Count, however, repelled him, and said, gravely and severely, "You know that I cannot endure these things!" - And, with these words, he went into the anteroom to attend to urgent affairs which awaited him, and to listen to the multitude of applicants. Thus the business was laid aside, and the next day we celebrated, over the remains of the sweet things of the day before, the disappearance of an evil, through the threatenings of which we had happily slept.

Whether the interpreter bad, in fact, spoken so wisely, or only so painted the scene to himself, as, after a good and successful action, one is apt to do, I will not decide. At least he never varied in the repetition of his statement. In fine, this day seemed to him at once the most anxious and the most glorious of his life.

How absolutely the Count in general rejected all false ceremonial, abstained at all times from any title which did not belong to him, and how sprightly he always was in his more cheerful hours, one little anecdote will testify.

A man of the higher class, but who was also one of those abstruse solitary Frankforters, thought he had some reason to complain as to the quartering the French in his house. He came in person, and the interpreter offered him his services, which the other believed he had no need of. He made his appearance before the Count with a suitable bow, and said :-"Your Excellency!" The Count returned his bow, as well as the word Excellency. Struck by this honour, and fancying that the title must have been too humble, he bent lower and said-" My Lord!"

"Sir," said the Count very gravely, "we will go no farther, for otherwise we might easily get on as far as Majesty.

The other was extremely confused, and had not a word to say. The interpreter, standing at some distance, and acquainted with the whole matter,

was malicious enough not to stir; but the Count went on with much cheerfulness:

"For example, sir, what is your name?"

"Spangenberg," replied the other. "And mine," said the Count, " is Thorane. Spangenberg, what do you want of Thorane? So let us sit down, and the matter will soon be settled."

And thus the matter was, in truth, soon settled, to the great contentment of him whom I have here called Spangenberg; and the story was not only told the same evening in our family circle by the mischief-loving interpreter, but reproduced with all its circumstances and attitudes.

After such confusions, disturbances, and distresses, we very soon recovered the former security and gaiety with which the young especially live from day to day, if the state of things at all permits it. My passion for the French theatre increased with every performance. I did not miss an evening, although always on my return, when I sat down with the family to supper, I often had only the remains of their dishes, and was compelled to bear the reproaches of my father that the theatre was of no use, and could lead to no end. In these cases I com. monly called up all the arguments of every kind which help out the defenders of the stage, when they get into difficulties like mine. Vice in prosperity, virtue in distress, are at last set to rights by poetical justice. Those fine examples of offences punished, Miss Sarah Sampson, and the London Merchant, * were eagerly urged on my part. But I often, on the contrary, had the worst of it, when the Fourberie de Scapin and the like were in the playbill, and when I had to bear the blame of the pleasure felt by the public in the tricks of fraudulent servants and the successful follies of dissipated youths. Neither party convinced the other. But my father was very soon reconciled with the stage, when he saw that I advanced with incredible rapidity in the French language.

Men are, once for all, so minded, that every one willingly himself at

tempts what he sees done by others, whether he has any fitness for it or no. Now I had soon gone through the whole course of the French stage. Many pieces I saw already for the second and third time. All had passed before my eyes and mind, from the loftiest tragedy to the slightest afterpiece; and as, when a child, I had tried to imitate Terence, so now, as a boy, with much more exciting occasion, I did not fail to reproduce the French forms as my capacity and incapacity permitted. Some half-mythological, half allegor. ical pieces in the taste of Piron, were then performed, which had a tone of parody, and were very much liked. These representations particularly attracted me; the golden little wings of a lively Mercury, the thunderbolt of a disguised Jupiter, an amorous Danae, or whatever else might be the name of a fair one visited by the gods, if it were not even a Shepherdess, or Huntress, to whom they descended. As from Ovid's Metamor. phoses, and Porney's Pantheon Mythicum, such elements very frequently buzzed about in my head, I had soon put together a little piece of the kind in my imagination, of which I only remember that the scene was in the country, and that yet there was no want in it either of kings' daughters, or princes, or gods. The Mercury particularly was then so vividly before my mind, that I could still swear I had seen him with my eyes.

I laid before my friend Derones a very neat copy which I had made myself, and which he received with particular politeness and the genuine air of a protector. He hastily glanced through the manuscript, pointed out some errors of language, thought some speeches too long, and at last promised that, at the requisite leisure, he would consider the work more closely, and decide upon it. To my timid question whether the piece could by any chance be acted? he answered that it was certainly not impossible. In the theatre a great deal depended on favour, and he would support me with all his heart; only the affair must be kept secret, for he had himself once surprised the managers with a piece of his own; and it would certainly have been performed if they had not discovered too soon that he was the author. I promised him all possible silence; and soon, in spirit, I saw the title of my work displayed in large letters on the corners of the streets and squares.

Frivolous as my friend usually was, the opportunity of playing the master was too much for him to resist. He read through the piece with attention, and then sitting down with me to make some slight alterations, he turned, in the course of our conversation, the whole piece upside down, so that not a single stone remained upon another. He struck out, added, took away one character, substituted another; in fine, proceeded with the maddest wantonness in the world, so that my hair stood on end. My prejudice that he must understand the matter was his security; for he had often so inculcated on me the Three Unities of Aristotle, the regularity of the French stage, the probability, harmony of verse, and every thing that depends on these, that I could not help regarding him not merely as instructed, but as profound. He abused the English and despised the Germans, and, in fine, laid before me that whole dramaturgie litany which I have so often in my life been compelled to hear repeated.

Like the boy in the fable, I took home my mangled production, and endeavoured to restore it again, but in vain. As, however, I would not altogether abandon it, I had a clean copy of my first manuscript, with a few alterations, made by our clerk, which I then presented to my father, and so gained from him at least this advantage, that for a long time he let me eat my supper in quiet after the play.

This unsuccessful attempt had made me pensive, and I determined now to study, in the first sources, these theories and laws which every one appealed to, and which had become suspicious to me, chiefly through the frowardness of my arrogant instructor. The undertaking was not indeed difficult for me, but laborious. I read first Corneille's Essay on the Three Unities, and saw clearly from it what people required. But why they required this was no way plain to me; and, what

was worst, I fell immediately into still greater confusion, by making acquaintance with the disputes on the Cid, and reading the prefaces in which Corneille and Racine are compelled to defend themselves against the critics and the public. Here at least I saw most evidently that no man knew what he wanted; that a piece like the Cid, which had produced the greatest effect, was to be pronounced bad on the command of an all-powerful cardinal; that Racine, theidol of the French in my day, and who had now become my idol for I had learned to know him well when Counsellor Olenschlager made us children act Britannicus, in which the part of Nero fell to my share that Racine, I say, even in his time could come to no understanding either with amateurs or professed critics. By all this I was more perplexed than ever, and after I had long tormented myself with this talking backwards and forwards, with this theoretical quackery of the previous century, I threw out the child with the teeth,* and flung away from me the whole trumpery, the more decidedly, because I thought I saw that even the authors themselves, who produced excellent things, when they began to speak about them, and to allege the grounds of their conduct, when they sought to defend, justify, and excuse themselves, were not always able to hit the right mark. I hastened therefore to the living Actual, visited the theatre much more zealously, and read more earnestly and continuously, so that I had at this time the perseverance to work through Racine and Molière entirely, and a great part of Corneille.

The King's lieutenant still lived on in our house. His demeanour had undergone no change, particularly towards us; but it was perceivable, and our friend the interpreter made it still plainer to us, that he no longer executed his office with the same cheerfulness, nor with the same zeal as before, although always with the same justice and fidelity. His habits and manners, which rather belonged to a Spaniard than a Frenchman; his whims, which at the same time had an influence on his business; his unyielding