:

ing at last in the close neighbourhood of the greater Alps, he had the sense of an over-brooding presence; of some strange new companions around him. Here one might yield one's self to the unalterable imaginative appeal of the elements in their highest force and simplicity-light, air, water, earth. On very early spring days the mantle was suddenly lifted the Alps were an apex of natural glory, towards which, in broadening spaces of light, the whole of Europe sloped upwards. Through them, on the right hand as he journeyed on, were the doorways to Italy, to Como, or Verona: from yonder peak Italy's self was visible, as, on the left hand, in the South-German towns, in a heightened artistic fineness, in the dainty flowered iron-work for instance, the overflow of Italian genius was traceable. These things presented themselves, at last, only to remind him that, in a new intellectual hope, he was already on his way home. Straight through life, straight through nature and man, with one's own selfknowledge as a light thereon, not by way of the geographical Italy or Greece, lay the road to the new Hellas; to be realised now as the outcome of home-born German genius. At times, in that early fine weather, looking now not southwards but to Germany, he seemed to trace the outspread of a faint, not wholly natural, aurora over the dark northern regions. And it was in an actual sunrise that the news came which finally put him on the directest road homewards. One hardly dared breathe in the rapid uprise of all-embracing light, which seemed like the intellectual rising of the Fatherland, when up the straggling path to his high beech-grown summit (was one safe nowhere?), protesting over the roughness of the way, came the too familiar voices (ennui itself made audible) of certain high functionaries of Rosenmold, come to claim their new sovereign, close upon the runaway.

With news of the old Duke's decease! A real grief at his heart, he hastened now over the ground which

lay between him and the bed of death, still trying, at quieter intervals, to snatch profit by the way-peeping at the most unlikely hours on the objects of his curiosity, waiting for a glimpse of dawn through glowing church-windows, penetrating into old churchtreasuries by candle-light, taxing the old courtiers to pant up for the view to this or that conspicuous point in the world of hilly woodland. From one such at last, in spite of everything with pleasure to Carl, old Rosenmold was visible-the attic windows of the Residence, the storks on the chimneys, the green copper roofs baking in the long, dry, German summer- -the homeliness of true old Germany! He too felt it, and yearned towards his home.

And the "beggar-maid" was there. Thoughts of her had haunted his mind all the journey through, as he was aware, not unpleased, graciously overflowing towards any creature he found dependent upon him. The mere fact that she was awaiting him-at his disposition-meekly, and as though through his long absence she had never quitted the spot on which he had said farewell, touched his fancy, and on a sudden concentrated his wavering preference into a practical decision. "King Cophetua" would be hers. And his good-will sunned her wildgrown beauty into majesty, into a kind of queenly richness. There was natural majesty in the heavy waves of golden hair folded closely above the neck, built a little massively; and she looked kind-beseeching also, capable of sorrow. She was like clear sunny weather, with blue-bells and the green leaves, between rainy days, and seemed to embody Die Ruh auf dem Gipfel-all the restful hours he had spent of late in the wood-sides and on the hill-tops. One June day,

on which she seemed to have withdrawn into herself all the tokens of summer, brought decision to our lover of artificial roses, who had cared so little hitherto for the like of her. Grand-Duke perforce, he would make

her his wife, and had already re-assured her with caricature of his horrified aninisters. "Go straight to life!" said his new poetic code; and here was the opportunity. Here also the real adventure, in comparison of which his previous efforts that way seemed childish theatricalities, fit only to cheat a little the profound ennui of real life. In a hundred stolen interviews she taught the hitherto indifferent youth the art of love.

Duke Carl has made arrangements for his marriage, secret but complete, and soon to be made public. Long since he had cast complacent eyes on a strange architectural relic, an old grange or hunting-lodge on the heath, with he could hardly have defined what charm of remoteness and

old romance. Popular belief amused itself with reports of the wizard who inhabited or haunted the place, his fantastic treasures, his immense age. His window-lights might be seen glittering afar on stormy nights; amid a blaze of golden ornaments, said the more adventurous loiterer. It was not because he was suspicious still, but in a kind of wantonness of affection, and as if by way of giving yet greater zest to the luxury of their mutual trust, that Duke Carl added to his announcement of the purposed place and time of the event, a pretended test of the girl's devotion. He tells her the story of the aged wizard, meagre and worn, to whom she must find her way alone for the purpose of asking a question all-important to himself. The fierce old man will try to escape with terrible threats; will turn, or half turn, into repulsive animals. She must cling the faster : at last the spell will be broken he will yield he will become a youth once more, and give the desired

answer.

The girl, otherwise so self-denying, and still modestly anxious for a private union, not to shame his high position in the world, had wished for one thing at least to be loved amid the splendours habitual to him. Duke Carl

sends to the old lodge his choicest personal possessions. For many days the public is aware of something on hand a few get delightful glimpses of the treasures on their way to the place on the heath. Was he pre

paring against contingencies, should the great army, soon to pass through these parts, not leave the country as innocently as might be desired?

The short grey day seemed a long one to those who, for various reasons, were waiting anxiously for the darkness the court-people fretful and on their mettle the townsfolk suspicious : Duke Carl full of amorous longing. At her distant cottage beyond the hills Gretchen kept herself ready for the trial.

It was expected that cer

tain great military officers would arrive that night, commanders of a victorious host making its way across Northern Germany with no great respect for the rights of neutral territory, often dealing with life and property too rudely to find the coveted treasure. It was but one episode in a cruel war. Duke Carl did not wait for the grand illuminated supper prepared for their reception. reception. Events precipitated themselves. Those officers came as practically victorious occupants, sheltering themselves for the night in the luxurious rooms of the great palace. The army was in fact in motion close behind its leaders, who (Gretchen warm and happy in the arms, not of the aged wizard, but of the youthful lover) are discussing terms for the final absorption of the duchy with those traitorous old counsellors. At their delicate supper Duke Carl amuses his companion with caricature, amid cries of cheerful laughter, of the sleepy courtiers entertaining their martial guests in all their pedantic politeness, like people in some farcical dream. A priest, and certain chosen friends to witness the marriage, were to come ere nightfall to the grange. The lovers heard, as they thought, noise of distant thunder. The hours passed as they waited; and what came at last was not the priest with his companions.

Could they have been detained by the storm? Duke Carl gently re-assures the girl bids her believe in him, and wait. But through the wind grown to tempest, beyond the sound of the violent thunder-louder than any possible thunder-nearer and nearer comes the storm of the victorious army, like some disturbance of the earth itself, as they flee into the tumult, out of the intolerable confinement and suspense, dead-set upon them.

The Enlightening, the Aufklärung, according to the aspiration of Duke Carl, was effected by other hands: Lessing and Herder, brilliant precursors of the age of genius which centered in Goethe, coming well within the natural limits of Carl's lifetime. As precursors Goethe gratefully recognised them, and understood that there had been a thousand others

looking forward to a new era in

German literature with the desire which is in some sort a forecast of capacity, awaking each other to the

permanent reality of a poetic ideal in human life, slowly forming that public consciousness to which Goethe actually addressed himself. It is their aspirations I have tried to embody in the portrait of Carl.

"A hard winter covered the Main with a firm footing of ice. The liveliest social intercourse was quickened thereon. I was unfailing from early morning onwards; and being lightly clad found myself, when my mother drove up later to look on, fairly frozen. My mother sat in the carriage, quite stately in her furred cloak of red velvet, fastened on the breast with thick gold cord and tassels. 'Dear mother!' I said, on the spur of the moment, 'give me your furs. I am frozen.' She was equally ready. In a moment I had on the cloak. Falling below the knee, with its rich trimming of sables, and enriched with gold, it became me excellently. So clad I made my way up and down with a cheerful heart."

That was Goethe, perhaps fifty years later. In that amiable figure I seem to see the fulfilment of the Resurgam on Carl's empty coffin-the aspiring soul of Carl himself, in freedom and effective at last.

WALTER PATER.