at the gates, and all the way to the Platz where
the inn stood, by a volley of whip-crackings
which might have announced a grand-duke or a
prima donna. Some casements were hastily
opened as we rumbled along, and the guests of
a café issued hurriedly into the street to watch
us, but these demonstrations over, I gained the
Schwein without further notice, and descended.

Herr Kramm looked suspiciously at the small
amount of luggage of the traveller who arrived
by "extra post," but, like an honest German,
he was not one to form rash judgments, and so
he showed me to a comfortable apartment, and
took my orders for supper in all respectfulness.
He waited upon me also at my meal, and gave
me opportunity for conversation. While I ate
my Carbonade mit Kartoffel-Salad, therefore, I
learned that, being already nine o'clock, it was
far too late an hour to present myself at the
English Embassy—for so he designated our
minister's residence; that at this advanced
period of the night there were but few citizens out
of their beds: the ducal candle was always
extinguished at half-past eight, and only roisterers
and revellers kept it up much later. My first
surprise over, I own I liked all this. It smacked
of that simple patriarchal existence I had so long
yearned after. Let the learned explain it, but
there is, I assert, something in the early hours
of a people that guarantee habits of simplicity,
thrift, and order. It is all very well to say
that people can be as wicked at eight in the
evening as at two or three in the morning;
that crime cares little for the clock, nor does
vice respect the chronometer; but does experience
confirm this, and are not the small hours
notorious for the smallest moralities? The
grand-duke, who is fast asleep at nine, is scarcely
disturbed by dreams of cruelties to his people.
The police minister, who takes his bedroom
candle at the same hour, is seldom harassed
by devising new schemes of torture for his
victims. I suffered my host to talk largely
of his town and its people, and probably such a
listener rarely presented himself, for he certainly
improved the occasion. He assured me,
with a gravity that vouched for the conviction,
that the capital, though by no means so dear as
London or Paris, contained much if not all these
more pretentious cities could boast. There was
a court, a theatre, a promenade, a public fountain,
and a new gaol, one of the largest in all
Germany. Jenny Lind had once sung at the
opera on her way to Vienna; and to prove how
they sympathised in every respect with greater
centres of population, when the cholera raged at
Berlin, they, too, lost about four hundred of their
townsfolk. Lastly, he mentioned, and this boastfully,
that though neither wanting in organs of
public opinion, nor men of adequate ability to
guide them, the Kalbbrateners had never mixed
themselves up in politics, but proudly
maintained that calm and dignified attitude which
Europe would one day appreciate; that is, if
she ever arrived at the crowning knowledge of
the benefit of letting her differences be decided
by some impartial umpire.

More than once, as I heard him, I muttered
to myself, "Potts, this is the very spot you have
sought for; here is all the tranquil simplicity
of the village, with the elevated culture of a
great city. Here are sages and philosophers
clad in homespun, Beauty herself in linsey-
woolsey. Here there are no vulgar rivalries of
riches, no contests in fine clothes, no opposing
armies of yellow plush. Men are great by their
faculties, not in their flunkeys. How elevated
must be the tone of their thoughts, the style of
their conversation, and what a lucky accident
it was that led you to that goal to which all your
wishes and hopes have been converging!—For
how much can a man live—a single gentleman
like myself—here in your city?" asked I of
my host.

He sat down at this, and filling himself a
large goblet of my wine—the last in the bottle
—he prepared for a lengthy séance. "First of
all," said he, "how would he wish to live?
Would he desire to mingle in our best circles,
equal to any in Europe, to know Herr von
Krugwitz, and the Gnändige Frau von Steinhaltz?"

"Well," thought I, "these be fair ambitions."
And I said, "Yes, both of them."

"And to be on the list of the court dinners?
There are two yearly, one at Easter, the other
on his highness's birthday, whom may Providence
long protect!"

"To this also might he aspire."

"And to have a stall at the Grand Opera, and
a carriage to return visits—twice in carnival
time—and to live in a handsome quarter, and
dine every day at our table d'hote here with
General von Beulwitz and the Hofrath von
Schlaffrichter? A life like this is costly, and
would scarcely be comprised under two thousand
florins a year."

How my heart bounded at the notion of
refinement, culture, elevated minds, and polished
habits: "science," indeed, and the "musical
glasses," all for one hundred and sixty pounds
per annum.

"It is not improbable that you will see me
your guest for many a day to come," said I, as
I ordered another bottle, and of a more generous
vintage, to honour the occasion. My host
offered no opposition to my convivial projects
—nay, he aided them by saying,

"If you have really an appreciation for something
super-excellent in wine, and wish to taste
what Freiligrath calls 'der Deutschen Nectar,'
I'll go and fetch you a bottle."

"Bring it by all means," said I. And away
he went on his mission.

"Providence blessed me with two hands,"
said he, as he re-entered the room, "and I have
brought two flasks of Lieb Herzenthaler."

There is something very artistic in the way
your picture-dealer, having brushed away the
dust from a Mieris or a Gerard Dow, places the
work in a favourite light before you, and then
stands to watch the effect on your countenance.
So, too, will your man of rare manuscripts and
illuminated missals offer to your notice some