and from his youth up had accustomed himself to the most extreme frugality. At noon, a spoonful of soup and small piece of beef sufficed him, but this must be cooked very dry, as in this way a less quantity answered, and one did not overload his stomach with great pieces. At night he was generally contented with a poached egg and a little brandy; an extra glass of beer at six in the evening formed his greatest refreshment. It may be imagined with what looks Rettel regarded the unfortunate treasurer; but the worst had not yet come. Some light Bavarian steam-cakes were placed upon the table: they had risen to the most delightful height, and formed the pride of the feast. The frugal treasurer took his knife and cut the cake which fell to his share with the most quiet indifference into a dozen pieces. Rettel, with a cry of horror, rushed out of the room.

The reader who is unacquainted with the treatment of Bavarian steam cakes, may be informed, that in eating, they must be broken, as when cut they lose all their lightness and flavor, and the honor of the cook is laid low.

From that moment Rettel regarded the Treasurer as the most disagreeable person under the sun. Master Wacht did not contradict her, and the rash image breaker in the dominion of the art of cookery, had forever lost the fair Rettel.

If the varied picture of the little Rettel has cost us too many words, a couple of strokes will suffice to bring before the eyes of the gentle reader, the countenance, the form, the whole character, of the amiable, the graceful Nanni.

In the South of Germany, especially in Franconia, and almost exclusively in the class of citizens, one meets, such small delicate figures, such lovely, pious angel faces, the sweet thoughts of heaven in their blue eyes, the smile of heaven on their rosy lips, so that one feels the old painters did not have to go far for the originals of their Madonnas. Exactly this form, this face, this air, had the lady of Erlangen, when Master Wacht married, and her daughter was a precise image of her.

The daughter was perhaps less earnest and strong than the mother, but therefore not the less lovely, and one could only object to her, that the tenderness of her womanly feelings, a sensibility which might be attributed to a feeble constitution, and which caused her easily to shed tears, made her almost too tender for life.

Master Wacht could not regard the dear child without anxiety, and he loved her as none but a powerful mind can love.

It may be that Master Wacht petted the tender Nanni at home, a little, by which the tenderness that often degenerates into

a soft weakness, found some material and nourishment, as we shall soon show.

Nanni dressed very simply, but in the finest stuffs, and of a fashion somewhat above her rank. Wacht made no objection, for in such a dress the fair child was but too lovely and attractive.

Disagreeable as it was to Master Wacht that Jonathan should belong to a profession which he hated, yet he never on that account turned away from the boy, nor in after years from the young man. He was pleased at the end of a day's work to find the quiet pious Jonathan at his house, passing the evening with his daughters and old Barbara. Moreover Jonathan wrote the finest hand which was to be seen at that time, and it gave Master Wacht no little pleasure (for he loved a fair hand writing,) to see his Nanni, to whom Jonathan was the self.elected writing master, by degrees acquiring the same delicate and beautiful hand as her master.

Master Wacht was generally in the evening either busy in his cabinet, or he visited a beer house, in which he met his fellow artisans, and even the gentlemen of the counsel, and after his manner, enlivened the company with his peculiar spirit. At home, Barbara kept the wheel busily humming, while Rettel wrote down carefully the household accounts, meditated on the preparation of some new dishes, or with a loud laugh repeated to the old lady what this or that madam had confided to her that day, and the young man Jonathan?

He sat with Nanni at the table, and she wrote and drew very well under his direction; and yet, writing and drawing for a whole evening is rather a tedious matter, and so it happened that Jonathan often drew a neatly bound book from his pocket, and read with a gentle, tender voice to the fair and sensitive Nanni.

Jonathan had, through old Eichheimer, gained the patronage of the Domiciliary, who considered Master Wacht as a real Verrina. This gentleman the Count Von Rosel, was a man of literary taste, who lived and breathed in the works of Goethe and Schiller, who then like sparkling meteors, began to mount above the horizon of the literary heavens. He thought rightly that he discovered in the young secretary of his advocate a similar tendency, and was particularly pleased therewith; and not only shared all these works with him, but read them in company with him, that they might sympatise the more together.

But Jonathan won the whole heart of the Count because he found the verses which the latter in the sweat of his brow entwined in well sounding phrases, to be excellent, and to the unspeakable satisfaction of the Count was sufficiently edified and moved

by them. It is true, however, that the aesthetical education of Jonathan actually gained by his intercourse with the intellectual and somewhat extravagant Count.

The gentle reader now knows what kind of books Jonathan drew out of his pocket, for the pretty Nanni, and read them to her, and he can imagine how writings of that character would affect a girl of so spiritual an organization.

"Star of approaching night"- How did the tears of Nanni flow, when the amiable Secretary, in a low and solemn tone, thus began!

It is a well known fact, that young people who often sing tender duets together, place themselves very easily in the position of the persons of the duet, and hold said duets for the melody and the text of the whole of life; so a young man who reads a tender romance to a lady, very easily becomes the hero of the piece, while the maiden dreams herself into the part of the loved one.

With such sympathizing minds as Jonathan and Nanni, such excitements were not needed to make them in love with each other.

The children were of one heart and one soul. The young girl, the young man, were animated with the same pure, unquenchable, flame of love. Father Wacht had as yet not the least suspicion of this love affair of his daughter, he was soon to be made acquainted with it.

Jonathan had, by untiring diligence and real talent, in a short time advanced so far in his law studies, that they were considered as completed, and he entered upon the duties of an advocate.

He wished to surprise Master Wacht one Sunday, with this, to him joyful intelligence, which secured to him his position in life. But how did he tremble with terror, when Wacht, with fiery glances such as he had never seen sparkle from the father's eyes, pierced him through. "What," cried father Wacht, with a voice that made the walls ring-"what, you miserable good for nothing fellow,- Nature has neglected your body, but she has richly endowed you with intellectual gifts; and will you, like an artful villain, misuse them in such a shameful manner, and thus turn the knife against your own mother? Will you carry on a trade with justice, as with merchandize in the open market, and will you weigh with a false balance the poor farmers and citizens who weep in vain before the bench of the harsh judge, and will you allow yourself to be paid with the bloody coin which the poor reach out to you, bathed in their tears?

"Will you fill your brain with lying traditions of men, and carry on lying and deceit as profitable handicraft, on which you fat

ten? Has all the virtue of your father left your heart?

"Your father, is your name Engelbrecht? no: if I should hear you called so, I would not believe that it was the name of my comrade, who was virtue and uprightness itself, but that Satan, in the imitative mockery of hell, gave you the name over his grave, and so men continue to hold the young lying lawyer's boy to be actually the son of the brave carpenter, Godfried Engelbrecht;-away, you are no longer my foster son, but a serpent, which I tear from my bosom. I spurn".

At that moment Nanni threw herself with a loud and heart rending cry, at the feet of Master Wacht.

"Father," cried she, filled with wild grief and inconsolable despair, "Father, if you spurn him, you also spurn me,—me, your dear daughter; he is mine, my own; I can never leave him in this world."

The poor child fell fainting, and struck her head against the side of the room, so that drops of blood moistened her tender white forehead. Barbara and Rettel sprang forward to her, and laid her apparently lifeless upon the sofa. Jonathan stood motionless as if struck with lightning, and incapable of the slightest action.

It would be difficult to describe the emotion, which spoke from within on the face of Wacht. The burning red on his countenance was followed by a deathlike paleness; a dark fire glowed still in his staring eyes; cold drops of sweat stood upon his brow; he gazed silently for some moments before him; his oppressed bosom then relieved itself, and he spoke in a strange tone, "Is it thus then?" Slowly he stepped toward the door, where he paused for a moment, and turning half round, said to the women "Do not spare the cologne water, and the fit will soon be over."

The Master soon after was seen to leave the house and walk rapidly toward the mountain.

It can be imagined in what deep and hearty sorrow the family were plunged. Rettel and Barbara could not in the least comprehend what horrible thing had happened, and they for the first time became anxious, and sad, when the Master, a circumstance which had never happened before, did not return to supper, but remained out till late in the night.

He was then heard to come in, open and shut the house door violently, mount the stairs with a heavy tread, and shut himself up in his cabinet.

Poor Nanni soon recovered, and continued to weep in silence. Jonathan was not wanting in wild expressions of despair, and spoke several times of shooting himself, but fortunately, pistols did not then neces

sarily belong to the moveables of young, sensitive advocates, or if they happened to be found among them they were apt to have no lock, or to be otherwise out of order.

And so it happened now: - for, instinctively, or without thinking decidedly upon it, the advocate in a few moments had devoured a large piece of Bayonne ham, and made fearful waste in the Portuguese gar

truffles, some of the Strasburgh pastry was despatched as became a sorrowful advocate, and the Domiciliary and the advocate made such thorough trial of the champagne that the servant was soon obliged to fill the crystal flask again.

The Count heard him quietly, and with considerable interest, while however he did not appear to be fully aware of the weight of sorrow as it was felt by the young advo

cate.

'My dear young friend," said he, while he kindly took the advocate by the hand and led him to a chair, "My dear young friend, I have heretofore considered the master carpenter, John Wacht, a great man in his way, but I now see that he is also a great fool.

Great fools are like spirited horses, it is difficult to bring them to a turn, but when this is once accomplished, they go gaily forward in the straight road. There is no manner of need of your giving up the fair Nanni on account of the disagreeable event of to-day, or the unexpected anger of the old man.

"Yet before we talk farther of your really charming and romantic love affair, let us take to ourselves a little breakfast. You lost your dinner at old Wacht's, and I shall not dine 'til five o'clock, at Seehof."

The little table at which the two, the Domiciliary and the advocate were seated, was indeed laid out in a very tempting manner. Bayonne ham garnished with slices of Portuguese onions, a cold larded partridge of the red kind, with a stranger, viz. truffles cooked in red wine, a plate of Strasburgh liver pie, and finally a dish of excellent Strachino, and another of butter as yellow as the May flowers themselves.

In addition to this, there sparkled in a beautifully cut crystal flask, noble Champagne of the very best kind. The Count, who had not removed the napkin which he had placed before him, and in which he had received the advocate, placed, after the attendant had quickly brought a second cover, the nicest pieces before the despairing lover; offered him wine, and then fell bravely to himself. It is a wicked and an alarming idea; but so much is certain that the stomach often, as a despotic tyrant or an ironical mystifier, acts against the will of its master.

The advocate felt a pleasant warmth pervading his whole frame, and his heart's sorrow affected him only with a singular shudder, like shocks of electricity, which give pain, and yet pleasure also. He felt ready for the consolatory speech of his patron, who, after having swallowed the last glass of wine, and carefully wiped his mouth, placed himself in a position, and began in the following manner :—

In the first place, my dear, good friend, you must not be so foolish as to believe that you are the only man on the earth to whom a father has refused the hand of his daughter. Yet that has not much to do with the matter, as I have already observed to you; the reason why the old fool hates you is so highly absurd, that there is nothing to be said about it; and though at this moment it may seem somewhat unkind to you, yet I cannot bear the thought that every thing should end off soberly with a wedding, and that one should have nothing more to say of the affair, but that Peter has courted Grettel and that Peter and Grettel are man and wife.

"The situation is new and glorious: the simple hatred to a profession which the beloved adopted son has chosen, is only the spring to set in motion the action of a new and exquisite tragedy, yet moreover, you are a poet, my friend, and this changes every thing. Your love, your sorrow, will be to you glorious materials to be gilded by the full splendor of the holy art of poetry. You will hear the harmony of the lyre, struck by your muse, and in divine inspiration you will receive the winged words, which reveal your love and your grief. As a poet, you may at this moment be called the happiest of men, since the deepest recess of your heart is wounded, so that your heart's blood is poured out. You need no artificial excitement to make you poetical, and believe me, this time of grief will have great and excellent consequences for you.

"I must allow, that with these first moments of your heart's sorrow, a singular and very unpleasant feeling is mingled which does not lead to poetry, yet this feeling soon passes away. But understand me; when, for example, the unhappy lover is cruelly spurned and driven from the house

by the angry father, if the offended mama shuts the damsel in her chamber, when the atack of the despairing lover is resisted by the armed household, and even plebian hands do not fear to come in contact with the finest cloth, (the Count sighed gently at these words) this prose may serve to dampen the zeal, the precipitancy of lovers sorrow. You have been sadly treated, my dear, young friend, and this was the bitter prose; you have conquered yourself, it is now all poetry to you.

"Here you have Petrarch's sonnets, Ovid's elegies, take, read, write, and read to me what you have written. Perhaps I too may be favored with an unhappy love; all hope of it is not gone. I may succeed in falling in love with the strange lady who has stopped at the White Lamb, in the Stone Avenue. Count Nesselstadt declares she is beauty and grace itself, notwithstanding he only saw her hastily at the window. Then, oh my friend, will we, like the Dioscuri, tread the same glorious path of love and poetry. Observe, my friend, what a great advantage my situation gives me, when this love which takes possession of my soul, mounts up to the tragic in never fulfilled sighs and hopes. now, my friend, out, out into the wood, as befits a poet."

But

It would be very tedious, even insupportable to the gentle reader, if we were here in course, and in tender words and set forms of speech, to attempt to paint what sorrow was experienced by Jonathan and Nanni. Similar pictures are found in every miserable romance, and it is often amusing enough to see how much trouble the poor author takes to make them seem new.

It is very important, on the contrary, to follow Master Wacht in his walk, or rather in the course of his ideas. It may appear wonderful that a man of a strong and powerful mind like Master Wacht, who knew how to bear the worst which could happen, and what would have broken down minds of a less powerful cast, with immovable firmness, should have been so much affected by a circumstance that any other father of a family would have considered as a common, every day affair, and would actually so have regarded it in this, or that, bad or

good light. The gentle reader will also understand, that this has its good psycological reasons. It was only the opposing discord in the soul of Wacht that gave birth to the thought, that the love of poor Nanni to the innocent Jonathan, would be the greatest misfortune of his whole life. But while this discord might perhaps be brought into harmony with the otherwise noble character of the old man, it was impossible to stifle it, or entirely to silence it.

Wacht had become acquainted with the female character in a very simple, but at the same time noble and excellent form. His own wife had given him an insight into the depths of the true female character, and he had seen it as in a crystal sea. He knew the heroine, who always fought with unconquerable arms. His wife, who was an orphan, had given up the inheritance of a rich aunt, had lost the love of all her relations, had resisted with unshaken courage the efforts of the church, which greatly embittered her life, when she married the Protestant Wacht, and a short time previous, from pure, glowing conviction declared herself at Augsburgh to be of that faith.All this came to the mind of Master Wacht, and he shed burning tears, when he thought with what feelings he had led the maiden to the altar. Nanni was the image of her mother. Wacht loved the child with an ardor to which nothing could be compared, and this was more than sufficient to make him feel that any attempt, even the smallest, to divide the lovers was fearful,- was even wicked. If he thought on the other hand of the whole life of Jonathan, he was forced to confess, that it would not be easy to find a young man in whom all of the virtues, with piety and industry-were so united as in Jonathan, whose beautiful, expressive countenance, his features perhaps a little too delicate and feminine, whose small and feeble, but graceful form, displayed a highly gifted mind. He remembered farther how the two children had been always together, how manifestly their dispositions led them to each other, and he could not conceive why he had not foreseen what had happened, and taken the right methods at the proper time:- but now it was too late.