devoted nearly his whole life. He made
models, he tried experiments, he brought to
bear all his prodigious knowledge of
mathematics on the subject of travelling in air,
with an enthusiasm, a childish earnestness,
which is not uncharacteristic of genius.
He studied every natural law which was
likely to advance him towards the consummation
of all his hopes and desires — namely,
the ability to fly. At one time his little
garden was turned into an aviary. He filled
it with birds of various kinds, to study the
mechanism of their powers of flight. There
was the eagle and the dove, the vulture and
the sparrow, all of which were made subservient
to his darling object. He has often
explained all this to me. "The Golden
Eagle," he once said, " can cleave the air
at the rate of forty miles an hour. Now, if
I can succeed in imitating the mechanism by
which he travels in space, exactly and
efficiently, of course, my machine will move in the
air at the same pace." What could I say ? No
argument, no warning, availed. Still he went
on, hoping and working, and buying expensive
tools and materials. He completed aerial
ships one after another ; and although none
of them answered, he was never discouraged.

At one time, however, he thought he had
succeeded. His contrivance was a curious
affair, shot out of a bomb; but it was about
as buoyant as a shot, fell, and failed,
disheartening everybody but the persevering
projector. Still he did not wholly neglect
useful productions, and several times made
improvements in mechanism, and sold them
for very good prices. But the money went as
fast as it came. His winged Pegasus was a
merciless Ogre, which swallowed up all the
money the old German earned.

Last Christmas-eve, in Paris, five of us
were collected, after dinner, round a roaring
fire, half wood, half charcoal. For some
time the conversation was general enough.
We spoke of England and of an English
Christmas. The magic spell of the fireside
was felt, and the word " home " hung on
the trembling lip of all; for we were in a
foreign land; we were all English, save one.
There was a lawyer, the most unlawyer-like
man I ever knew, a noble-hearted fellow,
whom to know is to like; there was a poet,
of an eccentric order of merit, whose love
of invective, bitter satire, and intense
propensity to hate —whose fantastic and
Germanic cast of philosophy will ever prevent his
succeeding among rational beings; then there
was an artist, a young man well known in the
world, not half so much as he deserves, if
kindness of soul could ever make a man
famous; there was Citizen Karl Herwitz, as
he loved to be called; lastly myself. I had
been speaking of some far-off land, relating
some personal adventure; and, with
commendable modesty, feeling that I had held
possession of the chair quite long enough,
paused for a reply.

"Tell us your adventures at the Court of
Konningen," said the poet, standing up to
see that his hair hung tastefully around his
shoulders, addressing at the same time Karl,
and mentioning the name of one of the smaller
German states. " I have heard it before, but
it will be new to the rest, and I promise them
a rich treat."

"Ah! " sighed the German, with a huge
puff at his long pipe; that was an adventure
—or rather a whole string of adventures. I
have told it several times; but, if you like,
I will tell it again."

All warmly called on the German to keep
his promise. After freshly loading his pipe,
and taking a drain at his glass, he drew his
arm-chair closer to the fire, settled his feet on
the chenets, and began his narrative in a
quaint and strange English, which I shall not
seek to copy:—

I had spent all my money. I had sold all
my property. There remained nothing but
a little furniture in my house, which was in a
quiet retired quarter of the town; but then I
had completed a machine, and sent it for the
approval of the Minister of the Interior, who
promised to purchase it for the government.
I now looked forward with delight to a long
career of success, and saw the completion of
my flying machine in prospect. On this I
depended, and still depend, for fame, reputation,
and fortune.

"I had then a good wife and four children;
she is dead now." The German paused,
puffed away vigorously at his pipe, and tried
to hide his emotion from our view by
enveloping himself in smoke.

"I was naturally impatient for some result,"
he continued, when his face became once more
visible. — I used to go every day to the Minister,
and wait in the antechamber, with other
suitors, for my turn. Weeks passed, and then
months, and yet it never came. But we
must all eat, and six mouths are not fed
for nothing. We had no resources, save our
clothes and our furniture. My clothes were
needed to go out with, so the furniture went
first. One article was sold, and the produce
applied by my careful wife to the wants of
the family. We had come to that point when
food is the only thing which must be looked
on as a necessity. We lived hardly indeed.
Bread, and a little soup, was all we ever
attempted to indulge in.

Six months passed without any change
for the better. I went to the Minister's every
day; sometimes I saw him, and sometimes I
did not. He was always very polite, bowed
to me affably, said my machine was under
consideration, should be reported on
immediately, and passed on his way. It was
the dead of winter. Every article of furniture
was now gone, my wife and children having
not gone out for two months for want of
clothes. We huddled together, for warmth,
on two straw mattresses, in the corner of an
empty room, without table, without chairs,