go to him for comfort, and do you know, Mischief must needs come of it, and it did. what people say ? He is going to marry The next morning after this Ascension day, again, too." "What? Buried three wives, and "Yes, and now he wants a fourth. that anything so dreadful? We must think about it. How shall all the soldiers and the servant-maids and the shoemakers and the masons, and all the rest, be disposed of, and who is to pay them their wages? No, Serene Highness, we must be more considerate. Such a thing, for instance, as this inorning, with Frau Schultz, we called her impertinent woman!' and no burgher frau, particularly one with an account against us, will put up with such treatment as that; that may do us a deal of mischief." which had been for his Highness rather "the day of the descent into Hades, he held Is his usual levee at nine o'clock. This state occasion was ordered exactly after the fashion of King Louis the Fourteenth of France. Court servants assisted their royal master into his garments, and foreign ambassadors and faithful subjects had the honor of looking on. Twelve lackeys stood in a row, the first with a shirt, the second with a pair of stockings, the third with something else, and so on; and the Kammerjunker von Knüppelsdörp had the command of the whole, with the exception of Rand, who, since he was employed specially about the person of his Highness, received his instructions only from his Highness in person. There were no foreign ambassadors present this morning, and the subjects were represented only by Hofrath Altmann's little five-year-old boy, who was a great favorite of the reigning sovereign, and had already been playing for an hour about his bed, since his Highness was fond of rational conversation with little children. "Stuff and nonsense!" cried his Highness, in a tone of much energy, considering the circumstances. "Well, for all I care! I can hold my tongue; what business is it of mine? But what good it can do us to shut up that long-legged, thin-ribbed rascal of a Halsband, and prevent him from marrying, is more than I can see." "Then I will tell you. You see, you are growing old, and when you cannot occupy When Rand assisted his royal master to your position any longer, then he shall his feet, the child looked wonderingly at take it, for he is willing and convenient." the preparations, and then again at his "So!-well, I might have known. Of Highness, and finally broke out with the course I can be spared. Eh, why not?" question: "Serene Highness, what are all said Rand, beginning to whisk the furni- these for?" ture about in rather a dangerous manner. "That may happen any day; the old Wallach is turned out of the carriage span and put to the dung cart!" Something fell with a crash. "What have you knocked down?" cried his Highness. "Eh, it is the old pot-pouri pot; it was cracked before. That can be spared, too." "Out with you, you old donkey!" "Oh yes, oh yes!" cried Rand, and obeyed; but when he reached the door, he turned, spitefully, to ask: "Well, Serene Highness, when you ring again, who shall answer, Halsband or I?" With that he closed the door, and was gone before his Highness had time to give expression to his princely displeasure. In comparison with his Highness, Rand was but a stupid fellow, but in one thing he was right; his Highness should not have treated Schultsch so harshly; for if he had reasons for thinking that a baker's account was not suited to a princely ruler by the grace of God, he should have taken into consideration the fact that Schultsch also was an autocrat, in her way, and that it is ill striking two hard stones together. "They are going to dress me." "What!-all these fellows going to dress you? My Fika dresses me all by herself, and my other mother says she shall not do it much longer; I must learn to dress myself alone." At the beginning of this childish speech, his Highness smiled graciously upon the ignorance of his little subject; but when the child spoke of his other mother, his curiosity was excited, or as the future Court-poet, Kägebein, expressed it: "The share thou takest in thy subject's weal, Their joys rejoice thy heart, thou dost their sorrows feel." "What mother?" asked his Highness. "You have no mother; your mother is dead." "Yes, my mother is dead; but this is my other mother, and she always gives us cakes." "What is your other mother's name?" "Eh, my other mother;" and with all his questions his Highness could get no further answer from the child. So much he knew, however, that Hofrath Altmann was going to marry again; Hofrath Altmann, who was, so to speak, constantly | penses from Strelitz here have taken the about his person, since he supplied his last groschen, and we must wait three money necessities. He was, therefore, weeks before our income is payable." justly indignant, and gave orders to the Kammerjunker von Knüppelsdorp to ascertain the name of the person who was willing to risk it for the fourth time with the Hofrath; and he gave orders also that for the present the Hofrath should be forbidden the Court. Rand shook his head at that; his Serene Highness allowed himself to be dressed, in a very sulky mood, and the child played merrily about the room; and as they were drawing the stockings upon his Highness' feet, the innocent child sang a rhyme which he had picked up on the street: "Dōrchläuchten is von Gottesgnaden, Hett drei por Strump, un doch Kein Waden." The Kammerjunker von Knüppelsdörp dropped the royal breeches, in his terror, the lackeys were too frightened to go on with their duties, the whole levee was interrupted; his Highness alone retained presence of mind, and graciously resolved not to regard the offence as high treason, although he commanded, in a tone of much decision, that the boy should be instantly removed from the apartment. Rand said never a word. The sorrow which pierced the princely heart at these words can only be appreciated by a German student, who, three weeks before the arrival of his remittances, has been refused longer credit, and finds it impossible to borrow. Well for him who knows how to help himself in such an extremity! I knew one of these young Burschen, almost as well as I knew myself, who understood the matter. In some way a false Prussian thaler had been imposed upon him, and this counterfeit thaler became his helping angel. The young fellow took his meals wherever he pleased, and since he was an honest man, he paid, but always with the false thaler. And because he was honest, he took pains to say that he believed the thaler was counterfeit, and people were so glad to find that they were dealing with an honest man, that they would give him back his thaler, and charge his account; and he carried on this business until his remittances came, and then paid his debts with genuine Prussian thalers, and threw away the false one in the Saal at Jena. Why? Because he was an honest man. His Serene Highness was also an honest man; but he had not the good fortune to possess a counterfeit Prussian thaler, so he sank back wearily in his arm-chair, leaned his head against the ducal coronet, and said: That his levee should have such a termination, and that such an accident could have occurred in it, naturally grieved the heart of this father of his country, and when his Highness was finally endowed with his green velvet dressing-gown, and seated in his red velvet chair with the "Yes, Serene Highness," said Rand, ducal coronet on the back, he was in any-"but that will not do; for the Kammerthing but a roseate humor. "My coffee!" junker, as I have just seen, — said he. Rand said nothing, but placed directly after the levee, to tell him that he the coffee before him. "Where are the rolls?" asked he, with energy. Rand said nothing, but shrugged his shoulders. "Where are the rolls?" asked his Highness, with still greater energy. "There are none, to-day," said Rand. "What does that mean, you donkey?" "Eh, Serene Highness, didn't I say it would be so? Schultsch will not trust us any longer, and the other bakers have none." "What! what!" cried his Highness, springing to his feet. "In our own land! What! Have we not our treasury?" "Hofrath Altmann must come." was forbidden the Court!" - went over, So Now all his Highness' nerves were cut through, also the nervus rerum gerendarum. His Highness could get no rolls for breakfast, and half the city were crackling Baker Schultz's crisp rolls, and Frau Schultz herself sat behind her shop counter, as stately as if she reigned that morning over the whole duchy of Mechlenburg-Strelitz. CHAPTER VIII. Stining gets bad news by extra post and telegraph. -She is in mourning, and is instigated by Durten to a singular prayer. How there came to be lightning-rods upon his Highness' palace, and how the Herr Conrector tweaked the nose of the Herr Kammererdiener Rand. - The Conrector and Dur. ten look for and cannot find each other until Durten at last stands still-Pagel Zarnewitz and Kar! Bentwisch have a skirmish." What word means pickled-goose?"-The Conrector prophe sies seven thunderstorms, and rises seven-fold secret dread of being talked about in pubhigher in the estimation of his Serene Highness.lic, and one's reputation was affected not ON this same morning, when his Serene so much by his guilt, as by the knowledge Highness was compelled to resign his of his disgrace; whether deserved or not, breakfast-rolls, Stining Holzen sat in her it was all one. Her Wilhelm had fallen little chamber, feeling as if she must resign into disgrace, his reputation had now a forever her whole happiness. On the day flaw, and the fear arose whether it might previous she had received speedy intelli- not be the means of preventing his engence of Halsband's misfortunes, through trance into any guild, and she reproached the extra-post and telegraph of that period; herself bitterly for having urged him to the extra-post being attended to by the lit- his undertaking. tle street-boys, and the telegraph being the particular business of the old women at street corners, as they raised their hands and clasped them above their heads, and shook their heads back and forth. But these methods of circulating intelligence were no more reliable than the methods in use at present, and if, with all the world's | progress, it sometimes happens that the Atlantic cable makes blunders and talks nonsense, why should we wonder if the little street-boy's post made blunders, and the old-wives'-telegraph talked nonseuse, like this: "Don't be frightened, Stining! Halsband has been stealing." This was as incomprehensible to Stining as if we should have news by cable, from America, that the President of the United States had been carried to the top of the City Hall in New York upon Blondin's back. She could not believe such a blunder; but behind the evident blunder peered the veiled apparition called by men, Uncertainty; and when the veil should fall, what would be revealed? And the veil fell, Dürten tore it down with a strong hand, and related the true story of Halsband's mishap, which she had learned by questioning one of the Broda day-laborers. It was nothing; it was a simple misunderstanding, for which no one was less to blame than Stining's Wilhelm; but people were shy in those days; every one had a The soul which is wholly and entirely absorbed in another soul anxiously seeks out torments, and ever finds a sting; for the protection with which others surround themselves as with a coat of mail, namely, self-love, it has cast off, that it may rise the lighter and brighter into its heaven. Dürten also reproached herself; but she was sustained by the proud feeling that she had set his Highness at defiance in the open market-place, and the assurance that she could stand by her sister and Halsband with counsel and active help. But when, towards evening, she was obliged to go to her poor sister, who sat in deep sorrow, with the news that Halsband had been really thrown into prison, by command of his Highness, for a failure in respect, and she tormented herself in vain to devise means of help, then the dreadful thought came over her that, with her desire for the offered five thalers, she was to blame for the whole matter. Stining lay on her bed without sleeping the whole night, and thought of her Wilhelin, whether he were not also lying without rest; and Dürten also lay without sleep, and thought how she could contrive to set the runner at liberty; for he was to be imprisoned for eight days, upon bread and water alternately; "that he might become more light-footed," as Rand spitefully said when he announced to him his sentence. THE YEAST GERM IN GRAPE JUICE. Pro- | are two orders of life, one of which requires fessor Pasteur has communicated to the Acadé-free oxygen for its sustenance, while the other mie des Sciences a memoir to show that the is killed by it. Apples, pears, and the like, yeast germ which induces fermentation in grape continue to live after being taken from the tree; juice is derived from the outer skin of the they absorb oxygen, exhale carbonic acid, and grape. In the Comptes Rendus for October 7, ripen. Being prevented from absorbing oxythis, and another paper by the same author, gen, these fruits begin to assimilate oxygen entitled, "New Facts Relating to the Theory of from their own juices, an alcoholic fermentation Fermentation, properly so called," are pub-commences, and the fruit becomes soft and lished, and also in Les Mondes of October 10. pulpy. The researches on this interesting subM. Pasteur comes to the conclusion that there jects are not yet complete. From The Cornhill Magazine. ern rage for sensational novels. Those who read them so greedily are conscious, It is an open question whether the po- poor souls, of capacities in themselves of liceman is not demoralizing us, and that, passion and action, for good and evil, for in proportion as he does his duty well; which their frivolous, humdrum daily life whether the perfection of justice and gives no room, no vent. They know too safety, the complete "preservation of body well that human nature can be more fertile, and goods," may not reduce the educated whether in weeds and poisons, or in flowers and comfortable classes into that lap-dog and fruits, than it is usually in the streets condition in which not conscience, but and houses of a well-ordered and tolerably comfort, doth make cowards of us all. sober city. And because the study of Our forefathers had, on the whole, to take human nature is, after all, that which is care of themselves; we find it more con- nearest to every one and most interesting venient to hire people to take care of us. to every one, therefore they go to fiction, So much the better for us, in some re- since they cannot go to fact, to see what spects: but, it may be, so much the worse they themselves might be had they the in others. So much the better; because, chance to see what fantastic tricks beas usually results from the division of fore high heaven men and women like labour, these people, having little or noth-themselves can play, and how they play ing to do save to take care of us, do so far better than we could; and so prevent a vast amount of violence and wrong, and therefore of misery, especially to the weak: for which last reason we will acquiesce in the existence of policemen and lawyers, as we do in the results of arbitration, as the lesser of two evils. The odds in war are in favour of the bigger bully; in arbitration, in favour of the bigger rogue; and it is a question whether the lion or the fox be the safer guardian of human interests. But arbitration prevents war: and that, in three cases out of four, is full reason for employing it. On the other hand, the lap-dog condition, whether in dogs or in men, is certainly unfavourable to the growth of the higher virtues. Safety and comfort are good, indeed, for the good; for the brave, the self-originating, the earnest. They give to such a clear stage and no favour wherein to work unhindered for their fellow-men. But for the majority, who are neither brave, self-originating, nor earnest, but the mere puppets of circumstance, safety and confort may and do merely make their lives mean and petty, effeminate and dull: their hearts must be awakened, as often as possible, to take exercise enough for health; and they must be reminded, perpetually and importunately, of what a certain great philosopher called "whatsoever things are true, honourable, just, pure, lovely, and of good report;""if there be any manhood, and any just praise, to think of such things." them. Well it is not for me to judge, for me to blame. I will only say that there are those who cannot read sensational novels, or, indeed, any novels at all, just because they see so many sensational novels being enacted round them in painful facts of sinful flesh and blood. There are those, too, who have looked in the mirror too often to wish to see their own disfigured visage in it any more; who are too tired of themselves and ashamed of themselves to want to hear of people like themselves; who want to hear of people utterly unlike themselves, more noble, and able, and just, and sweet, and pure; who long to hear of heroism and to converse with heroes; and who if by chance they meet with an heroic act, bathe their spirits in that, as in Maydew, and feel themselves thereby, if but for an hour, more fair. If any such shall chance to see these words, let me ask them to consider with me that one word Hero, and what it means. Hero; Heroic; Heroism. These words point to a phase of human nature, the capacity for which we all have in ourselves, which is as startling and as interesting in its manifestations as any, and which is always beautiful, always ennobling, and therefore always attractive to those whose hearts are not yet seared by the world or brutalized by self-indulgence. But let us first be sure what the words mean. There is no use talking about a word till we have got at its meaning. We may use it as a cant phrase, as a party cry This pettiness and dulness of our mod-on platforms; we may even hate and perern life is what keeps alive our stage, to secute our fellow-men for the sake of it: which people go to see something a little but till we have clearly settled it in our less petty, a little less dull, than what they own minds what a word means, it will do see at home. It is, too, the cause of-I for fighting with, but not for working with. had almost said the excuse for -the mod-Socrates of old used to tell the young Athenians that the ground of all sound knowledge was- - to understand the true meaning of the words which were in their mouths all day long; and Socrates was a wiser man than we shall ever see. So instead of beginning an oration in praise of heroism, I shall ask my readers to think, with me, what heroism is. more reverent than other men to those divine beings of whose nature he partook, whose society he might enjoy even here on earth. He might be unfaithful to his own high lineage; he might misuse his gifts by selfishness and self-will; he might, like Ajax, rage with mere jealousy and wounded pride till his rage ended in shameful madness and suicide. He might rebel against the very gods, and all laws of right and wrong, till he perished in his úraotažín, Smitten down, blind in his pride, for a sign and a terror to mortals. Now, we shall always get most surely at the meaning of a word by getting at its etymology — that is, at what it meant at first. And if heroism means behaving like a hero, we must find out, it seems to me, not merely what a hero may happen to mean just now, but what is meant in the But he ought to have, he must have, to be earliest human speech in which we find it. true to his name of Hero, justice, self-reA hero or a heroine, then, among the straint, and aids — that highest form of old Homeric Greeks, meant a man or modesty, for which we have, alas! no name woman who was like the gods; and, from in the English tongue; that perfect respect that likeness, stood superior to their fellow-for the feelings of others which springs creatures. Gods, heroes, and men is a three-fold division of rational beings, with which we meet more than once or twice. Those grand old Greeks felt deeply the truth of the poet's saying Unless above himself he can Exalt himself, how poor a thing is man. But more: the Greeks supposed these heroes to be, in some way or other, partakers of a divine nature; akin to the gods; usually, either they, or some ancestor of theirs, descended from a god or goddess. Those who have read Mr. Gladstone's Juventus Mundi will remember the section (cap. ix. § 6) on the modes of the approximation between the divine and the human natures; and whether or not they agree with the author altogether, all will agree, I think, that the first idea of a hero or a heroine was a godlike man or godlike woman. A godlike man. What varied, what infinite forms of nobleness that word might include, ever increasing, as men's notions of the gods became purer and loftier, or, alas decreasing, as their notions became degraded. The old Greeks, with that intense admiration of beauty which made them, in after ages, the master sculptors and draughtsmen of their own, and, indeed, of any age, would, of course, require in their hero, their godlike man, beauty and strength, manners, too, and eloquence, and all outward perfections of humanity, and neglect his moral qualities. Neglect, I say, but not ignore. The hero, by virtue of his kindred with the gods, was always expected to be a better man than common men, as virtue was then understood. And how better? Let us see. The hero was at least expected to be -- out of perfect self-respect. And he must have, too- if he were to be a hero of the highest type the instinct of helpfulness; the instinct that, if he were a kinsman of the gods, he must fight on their side, through toil and danger, against all that was unlike them, and therefore hateful to them. Who loves not the old legends, unsurpassed for beauty in the literature of any race, in which the hero stands out as the deliverer, the destroyer of evil? Theseus ridding the land of robbers, and delivering it from the yearly tribute of boys and maidens to be devoured by the Minotaur; Perseus slaying the Gorgon, and rescuing Andromeda from the seabeast; Heracles with his twelve famous labours against giants and monsters; and all the rest Who dared, in the god-given might of their manhood, and the forests brood Greatly to do and to suffer, and far in the fens These are figures whose divine moral |