initial commit of ebook 28915HEAD main

author: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 02:44:04 -0700
committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 02:44:04 -0700
commit: 352869095e6c372674d61b832c31afc4eaa94b1c (patch)
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Zigzag Journeys in Northern Lands, by Hezekiah Butterworth.
+    </title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of ZigZag Journeys in Northern Lands;, by 
+Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: ZigZag Journeys in Northern Lands;
+       The Rhine to the Arctic
+
+Author: Hezekiah Butterworth
+
+Release Date: May 22, 2009 [EBook #28915]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN NORTHERN LANDS; ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Sam W. and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 444px;">
+<img src="images/zjnl001.jpg" width="444" height="600"
+alt="Front cover of the book" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<h1 class="padtop"><span class="smcap">Zigzag Journeys</span><br />
+<br />
+<span class="tinyfont">IN</span><br />
+<br />
+<span class="smlfont">NORTHERN LANDS.</span></h1>
+
+<h2 class="smlpadt">THE RHINE TO THE ARCTIC.</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlpadt"><i>A SUMMER TRIP OF THE ZIGZAG CLUB THROUGH<br />
+HOLLAND, GERMANY, DENMARK, NORWAY,<br />
+AND SWEDEN.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop smlfont">BY</p>
+
+<h2>HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH,</h2>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">AUTHOR OF &ldquo;YOUNG FOLKS&rsquo; HISTORY OF AMERICA,&rdquo; &ldquo;YOUNG FOLKS&rsquo; HISTORY OF BOSTON,&rdquo;<br />
+&ldquo;ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN EUROPE,&rdquo; ETC.</p>
+
+<p class="center padtop"><i>FULLY ILLUSTRATED.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center padtop padbase">BOSTON:<br />
+ESTES AND LAURIAT,<br />
+<span class="smlfont smcap">301-305 Washington Street.</span><br />
+1884.
+</p>
+
+
+
+<p class="center padtop padbase"><i>Copyright, 1883</i>,<br />
+<span class="smcap">By Estes and Lauriat.</span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 120px; padding-bottom: 3em;">
+<img src="images/zjnl002.png" width="120" height="150"
+alt="Printer&#39;s logo" />
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="border">
+<p class="center xlrgfont">THE ZIGZAG SERIES.</p>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">BY</p>
+
+<p class="center lrgfont">HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH,</p>
+
+<p class="center smlfont">OF THE EDITORIAL STAFF OF THE &ldquo;YOUTH&rsquo;S COMPANION,&rdquo; AND<br />
+CONTRIBUTOR TO &ldquo;ST. NICHOLAS&rdquo; MAGAZINE.</p>
+
+
+<p class="center smlpadt"><i>Each volume complete in itself.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center">NOW PUBLISHED.</p>
+
+<p class="lrgfont"><i>ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN EUROPE.</i></p>
+<p class="lrgfont"><i>ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN CLASSIC LANDS.</i></p>
+<p class="lrgfont"><i>ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE ORIENT.</i></p>
+<p class="lrgfont"><i>ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN THE OCCIDENT.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<p class="center"><b>New Volume for 1883.</b></p>
+
+<p class="lrgfont"><i>ZIGZAG JOURNEYS IN NORTHERN LANDS.</i></p>
+
+<p class="center">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p class="center"><img src="images/finger.gif" width="30" height="13" alt="Hand, finger pointing right" />
+<i>Over 100,000 volumes of the Zigzag books have
+already been sold.</i></p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="carrying_siegfrieds_body" id="carrying_siegfrieds_body"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl003.jpg" width="600" height="430"
+alt="Siegfried&#39;s body is rowed across the water" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CARRYING SIEGFRIED&rsquo;S BODY.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This fifth volume of the Zigzag books, in which
+history is taught by a supposed tour of interesting
+places, might be called a German story-book.</p>
+
+<p>It was the aim of &ldquo;<span class="smcap">Zigzag Journeys in Europe</span>&rdquo;
+and &ldquo;<span class="smcap">Zigzag Journeys in Classic Lands</span>&rdquo; to
+make history interesting by stories and pictures of places. It was the
+purpose of &ldquo;<span class="smcap">Zigzag Journeys in the Orient</span>&rdquo; to explain the Eastern
+Question, and of &ldquo;<span class="smcap">Zigzag Journeys in the Occident</span>&rdquo; to explain
+Homesteading in the West.</p>
+
+<p>The purpose of this volume is the same as in &ldquo;<span class="smcap">Europe</span>&rdquo; and
+&ldquo;<span class="smcap">Classic Lands</span>.&rdquo; A light narrative of travel takes the reader to the
+places most conspicuously associated with German history, tradition,
+literature, and art, and in a disconnected way gives a view of the most
+interesting events of those Northern countries that once constituted a
+great part of the empire of Charlemagne.</p>
+
+<p>It is the aim of these books to stimulate a love of history, and to
+<em>suggest</em> the best historical reading. To this end popular stories and
+pictures are freely used to adapt useful information to the tastes of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>
+the young. But in every page, story, and picture, right education and
+right influence are kept in view.</p>
+
+<p>In this volume many German legends and fairy stories have been
+used, but they are so introduced and guarded as not to leave a wrong
+impression upon the minds of the young and immature.</p>
+
+<p class="sig">H. B.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of contents">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdlsc" colspan="2">Chapter</td>
+    <td class="tdrsc">Page</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">I.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The River of Story and Song</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">II.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Ghost Stories</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_21">21</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">III.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">A Story-telling Journey</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">IV.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">German Stories</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">V.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Second Meeting of the Club</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VI.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Night Second</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_92">92</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VII.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Evening the Third</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Evening the Fourth</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_122">122</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">IX.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Fifth Meeting for Rhine Stories</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_145">145</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">X.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Night the Sixth</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_165">165</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XI.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Cologne</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_184">184</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XII.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Hamburg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Bells of the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Songs of the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XV.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Copenhagen</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">Norway</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_288">288</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td>
+    <td class="tdlsc">The Greater Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
+
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="List of illustrations">
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdrb" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Carrying Siegfried&rsquo;s Body</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><i><a href="#carrying_siegfrieds_body">Frontispiece.</a></i></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Introducing Christianity into the North</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#introducing_christianity_into_the_north">16</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Castle in Rhine Land</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#castle_in_rhine_land">17</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Tower of R&uuml;desheim on the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#tower_of_rudesheim_on_the_rhine">19</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Mountain Scenery in Southern Germany</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mountain_scenery_in_southern_germany">23</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;I&rsquo;ve seen de Debble&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#ive_seen_de_debble">26</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Cat and Rat</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#cat_and_rat">27</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Grandmother Golden</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#grandmother_golden">29</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Frightened Irishman</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_frightened_irishman">30</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Duncan Asleep</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#duncan_asleep">34</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Witches</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#witches">35</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Grand-Ducal Castle, Schwerin</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_grand_ducal_castle_schwerin">41</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Ancient German Houses</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#ancient_german_houses">43</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Ancient Religious Rites of the Peasants</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#ancient_religious_rites_of_the_peasants">45</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Old Fortress on the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#old_fortress_on_the_rhine">50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">St. Dunstan and the Devil</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#st_dunstan_and_the_devil">53</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Murder of Edward</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_murder_of_edward">58</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Emperor William and Napoleon III</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_emperor_william_and_napoleon_iii">63</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">William before his Father</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#william_before_his_father">64</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">King William&rsquo;s Helmet</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#king_williams_helmet">65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Jamie at the Strange-looking House</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#jamie_at_the_strange_looking_house">67</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Mountain Scene in Germany</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mountain_scene_in_germany">69</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Jamie rushing towards his Mother</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#jamie_rushing_towards_his_mother">71</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Dwarf and the Goose</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_dwarf_and_the_goose">72</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Eberhard</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#eberhard">74</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Bridge in the Via Mala</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bridge_in_the_via_mala">77</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">John Huss</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#john_huss">79</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Bismarck</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bismarck">81</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peter in the Forest</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peter_in_the_forest">86</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peter and the Manikin</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peter_and_the_manikin">88</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peter surpassed the King of Dancers</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peter_surpassed_the_king_of_dancers">89</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peter and the Giant</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peter_and_the_giant">90</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Village in the Black Forest</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_village_in_the_black_forest">93</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peasant&rsquo;s House in the Black Forest</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peasants_house_in_the_black_forest">95</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Von Moltke</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#von_moltke">97</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Fountain at Schaffhausen</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fountain_at_schaffhausen">99</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Old Woman&rsquo;s Directions</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_old_womans_directions">101</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Hen and the Trench</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_hen_and_the_trench">102</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Strasburg Cathedral</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#strasburg_cathedral">103</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Platform of Strasburg Cathedral</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#platform_of_strasburg_cathedral">107</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Thus didst thou to the Vase of Soissons</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#thus_didst_thou_to_the_vase_of_soissons">109</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Street in Strasburg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#street_in_strasburg">111</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Clovis</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#clovis">113</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Monsieur Lacombe and the Organ</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#monsieur_lacombe_and_the_organ">115</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;Here is an Odd Treasure&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#here_is_an_odd_treasure">120</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Palace at Heidelberg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#palace_at_heidelberg">123</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">German Student</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#german_student">126</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Castle at Heidelberg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#castle_at_heidelberg">127</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">German Students</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#german_students">131</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Entrance to Heidelberg Castle</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#entrance_to_heidelberg_castle">135</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Little Mook</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#little_mook">137</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Amputation</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#amputation">139</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Queer Old Lady who went to College</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_queer_old_lady_who_went_to_college">140</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;And it told to her the Truth&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#and_it_told_to_her_the_truth">141</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;Not very, very plain&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#not_very_very_plain">141</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;They you straightway in invite&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#they_you_straightway_in_invite">141</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">&ldquo;He of the Philosophie&rdquo;</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#he_of_the_philosophie">143</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Battle between Franks and Saxons</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_battle_between_franks_and_saxons">146</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Luther&rsquo;s House</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#luthers_house">147</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A tribe of Germans on an Expedition</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_tribe_of_germans_on_an_expedition">149</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Murder of Siegfried</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_murder_of_siegfried">151</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Mayence</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mayence">153</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Bishop Hatto and the Rats</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bishop_hatto_and_the_rats">155</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">View on the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#view_on_the_rhine">158</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Lorelei</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_lorelei">159</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>Herman&rsquo;s Eyes were fixed on the Rock</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#hermans_eyes_were_fixed_on_the_rock">163</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Ehrenbreitstein</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#ehrenbreitstein">166</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Goethe&rsquo;s Promenade</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#goethes_promenade">167</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Faust Signing</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#faust_signing">171</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Faust and Mephistopheles</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#faust_and_mephistopheles">172</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A Cleft in the Mountains</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_cleft_in_the_mountains">175</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Voltaire</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#voltaire">179</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Unnerved Hussar</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_unnerved_hussar">182</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Cathedral of Cologne</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#cathedral_of_cologne">185</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Mysterious Architect</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_mysterious_architect">189</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">St. Martin&rsquo;s Church, Cologne</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#st_martins_church_cologne">193</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Charlemagne in the School of the Palace</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#charlemagne_in_the_school_of_the_palace">197</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Charlemagne inflicting Baptism upon the Saxons</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#charlemagne_inflicting_baptism_upon_the_saxons">201</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Germans on an Expedition</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_germans_on_an_expedition">203</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Canal in Hamburg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#canal_in_hamburg">207</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Palace in Berlin</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_palace_in_berlin">209</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Grotto</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#grotto">211</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Sans-Souci</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#sans_souci">213</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Peter the Wild Boy</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peter_the_wild_boy">217</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Silent Castles</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_silent_castles">223</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Hotel de Ville, Ghent</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#hotel_de_ville_ghent">225</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Bell-Tower, Ghent</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bell_tower_ghent">228</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Bell Tower of Heidelberg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bell_tower_of_heidelberg">229</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Breslau</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#breslau">233</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Finishing the Bell</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#finishing_the_bell">236</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">At the Inn</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#at_the_inn">237</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Day of Execution</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_day_of_execution">238</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Above the Town</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#above_the_town">241</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Old Peasant Costume</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#old_peasant_costume1">244</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Old City</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_old_city">245</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Old Peasant Costume</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#old_peasant_costume2">247</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Old Peasant Costumes</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#old_peasant_costumes">248</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">City Gate</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#city_gate">249</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Neckar</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_neckar">250</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">An Old German Town</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#an_old_german_town">255</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Rhinefels</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_rhinefels">257</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Mayence in the Olden Time</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mayence_in_the_olden_time">262</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Beethoven&rsquo;s Home at Bonn</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#beethovens_home_at_bonn">268</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A City of the Rhine</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_city_of_the_rhine">271</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The River of Song</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_river_of_song">274</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Palace of Rosenborg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_palace_of_rosenborg">278</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">View of Copenhagen</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#view_of_copenhagen">279</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Palace of Fredericksborg</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#palace_of_fredericksborg">283</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The King in the Bag</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_king_in_the_bag">286</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Gustavus Adolphus</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#gustavus_adolphus">289</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Death of Gustavus and his Page</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#death_of_gustavus_and_his_page">293</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Cascade in Norway</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#cascade_in_norway">297</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Lazaretto</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#lazaretto">299</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Naero Fiord</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_naero_fiord">300</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Lake in Norway</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#lake_in_norway">303</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">The Coast</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_coast">307</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Niagara Falls</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#niagara_falls">311</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">A New England in the West</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_new_england_in_the_west">315</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdl">Near Quebec</td>
+    <td class="tdrb"><a href="#near_quebec">317</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"><!-- half title --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
+
+<h1 class="padtop">ZIGZAG JOURNEYS<br />
+<span class="tinyfont">IN</span><br />
+NORTHERN LANDS.</h1>
+
+
+
+<h2 class="padtop">CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RIVER OF STORY AND SONG.</h3>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcaptlrg"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>HE Rhine! River of what histories, tragedies,
+comedies, legends, stories, and songs! Associated
+with the greatest events of the history of
+Germany, France, and Northern Europe; with
+the Rome of C&aelig;sar and Aurelian; with the
+Rome of the Popes; with the Reformation;
+with the shadowy goblin lore and beautiful fairy
+tales of the twilight of Celtic civilization that
+have been evolved through centuries and have
+become the household stories of all enlightened
+lands!</p>
+
+<p>A journey down the Rhine is like passing
+through wonderland; wild stories, quaint stories,
+legendary and historic stories, are associated with
+every rood of ground from the Alps to the ocean.
+It is a region of the stories of two thousand years. The Rhine is the
+river of the poet; its banks are the battle-fields of heroes; its forests
+and villages the fairy lands of old.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>
+When Rome was queen of the world, C&aelig;sar carried his eagles
+over the Rhine; Titus sent a part of his army which had conquered
+Jerusalem to the Rhine; Julian erected a fortress on the Rhine; and
+Valentinian began the castle-building that was to go on for a thousand
+years.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="introducing_christianity_into_the_north" id="introducing_christianity_into_the_north"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl004.jpg" width="500" height="260"
+alt="A couple preach to a crowd" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">INTRODUCING CHRISTIANITY INTO THE NORTH.</p>
+
+<p>The period of the Goths, Huns, Celts, and Vandals came,&mdash;the
+conquerors of Rome; and the Rhine was strewn with Roman ruins.
+Charlemagne cleared away the ruins, and began anew the castle-building.
+A Christian soldier in one of the legions that destroyed Jerusalem
+and tore down the temple, first brought the Gospel to the
+Rhine. His name was Crescaitius. He was soon followed by missionaries
+of the Cross. Christianity was established upon the Rhine
+soon after it entered Rome.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 430px;">
+<a name="castle_in_rhine_land" id="castle_in_rhine_land"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl005.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CASTLE IN RHINE LAND.</p>
+
+<p>The great conquests of modern history are directly or indirectly
+associated with the wonderful river; C&aelig;sar, who conquered the world,
+crossed the Rhine; Attila, who conquered the city of the C&aelig;sars;
+Clovis, who founded the Christian religion in France; and Charlemagne,
+who established the Christian church in Germany. Frederick
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+Barbarossa and Frederick the Great added lustre to its growing history,
+and Napoleon gave a yet deeper coloring to its thrilling scenes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="tower_of_rudesheim_on_the_rhine" id="tower_of_rudesheim_on_the_rhine"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl006.jpg" width="500" height="431" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">TOWER OF R&Uuml;DESHEIM ON THE RHINE.</p>
+
+<p>When the Northern nations shattered the Roman power, people
+imagined that the dismantled castles of the Rhine became the abodes
+of mysterious beings: spirits of the rocks, forests, fens; strange
+maidens of the red marshes; enchanters, demons; the streams were
+the abodes of lovely water nymphs; the glens of the woods, of delightful
+fairies.</p>
+
+<p>Into these regions of shadow, mystery, of heroic history, of moral
+conflicts and Christian triumphs, it is always interesting to go. It is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
+especially interesting to the American traveller, for his form of Christianity
+and republican principles came from the Rhine. Progress to
+him was cradled on the Rhine, like Moses on the Nile. In the Rhine
+lands Luther taught, and Robinson of Leyden lived and prayed; and
+from those lands to-day comes the great emigration that is peopling
+the golden empire of America in the West. &ldquo;I would be proud of the
+Rhine were I a German,&rdquo; said Longfellow. &ldquo;I love rivers,&rdquo; said
+Victor Hugo; &ldquo;of all rivers I prefer the Rhine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It is our purpose in this story-telling volume to relate why the
+Zigzag Club was led to make the Rhine the subject of its winter
+evening study, and to give an account of an excursion that some of
+its members had made from Constance to Rotterdam and into the
+countries of the North Sea.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;All hail, thou broad torrent, so golden and green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye castles and churches, ye hamlets serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye cornfields, that wave in the breeze as it sweeps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye forests and ravines, ye towering steeps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye mountains e&rsquo;er clad in the sun-illumed vine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherever I go is my heart on the Rhine!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I greet thee, O life, with a yearning so strong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the maze of the dance, o&rsquo;er the goblet and song.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All hail, beloved race, men so honest and true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And maids who speak raptures with eyes of bright blue!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May success round your brows e&rsquo;er its garlands entwine!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherever I go is my heart on the Rhine!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;On the Rhine is my heart, where affection holds sway!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the Rhine is my heart, where encradled I lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where around me friends bloom, where I dreamt away youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the heart of my love glows with rapture and truth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May for me your hearts e&rsquo;er the same jewels enshrine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherever I go is my heart on the Rhine!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Wolfgang M&uuml;ller.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>GHOST STORIES.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Zigzag Club again.&mdash;Some &ldquo;Ghost&rdquo; Stories.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapt"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>HE Academy had opened again. September again
+colored the leaves of the old elms of Yule. The
+Blue Hills, as lovely as when the Northmen beheld
+them nearly nine hundred years ago, were radiant
+with the autumn tinges of foliage and sky, changing
+from turquoise to sapphire in the intense twilight,
+and to purple as the shades of evening fell.</p>
+
+<p>The boys were back again, all except the graduating class, some
+of whom were at Harvard, Brown, and Yale. Master Lewis was in
+his old place, and Mr. Beal was again his assistant.</p>
+
+<p>The Zigzag Club was broken by the final departure of the graduating
+class. But Charlie Leland, William Clifton, and Herman
+Reed, who made a journey on the Rhine under the direction of Mr.
+Beal, had returned, and they had been active members of the school
+society known as the Club.</p>
+
+<p>We should say here, to make the narrative clear to those who have
+not read &ldquo;Zigzag Journeys in Classic Lands&rdquo; and &ldquo;Zigzag Journeys
+in the Orient,&rdquo; that the boys of the Academy of Yule had been accustomed
+each year to form a society for the study of the history, geography,
+legends, and household stories of some chosen country, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
+during the long summer vacation as many of the society as could do
+so, visited, under the direction of their teachers, the lands about which
+they had studied. This society was called the Zigzag Club, because
+it aimed to visit historic places without regard to direct routes of
+travel. It zigzagged in its travels from the associations of one historic
+story to another, and was influenced by the school text-book or
+the works of some pleasing author, rather than the guide-book.</p>
+
+<p>The Zigzag books have been kindly received;<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> and we may here
+remark parenthetically that they do not aim so much to present narratives
+of travel as the histories, traditions, romances, and stories of
+places. They seek to tell stories at the places where the events occurred
+and amid the associations of the events that still remain. The
+Zigzag Club go seeking what is old rather than what is new, and thus
+change the past tense of history to the present tense.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> More than one hundred thousand volumes have been sold.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Charlie Leland was seated one day on the piazza of the Academy,
+after school, reading Hawthorne&rsquo;s &ldquo;Twice-Told Tales.&rdquo; Master
+Lewis presently took a seat beside him; and &ldquo;Gentleman Jo,&rdquo; whom
+we introduced to our readers in &ldquo;Zigzags in the Occident,&rdquo; was resting
+on the steps near them.</p>
+
+<p>Gentleman Jo was the janitor. He was a relative of Master
+Lewis, and a very intelligent man. He had been somewhat disabled
+in military service in the West, and was thus compelled to accept a
+situation at Yule that was quite below his intelligence and personal
+worth. The boys loved and respected him, sought his advice often,
+and sometimes invited him to meetings of their Society.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you called together the Club yet?&rdquo; asked Master Lewis
+of Charlie, when the latter had ceased reading.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We had an informal meeting in my room last evening.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your plan of study?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 430px;">
+<a name="mountain_scenery_in_southern_germany" id="mountain_scenery_in_southern_germany"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl007.jpg" width="430" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MOUNTAIN SCENERY IN SOUTHERN GERMANY.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We have none as yet,&rdquo; said Charlie. &ldquo;We are to have a meeting
+next week for the election of officers, and for literary exercises we have
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
+agreed to relate historic <em>ghost stories</em>. We asked Tommy Toby to be
+present, and he promised to give us for the occasion his version of
+&lsquo;St. Dunstan and the Devil and the Six Boy Kings.&rsquo; I hardly know
+what the story is about, but the title sounds interesting.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What made you choose ghost stories?&rdquo; asked Master Lewis,
+curiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You gave us Irving and Hawthorne to read in connection with
+our lessons on American literature. &lsquo;Rip Van Winkle,&rsquo; &lsquo;Sleepy Hollow,&rsquo;
+and &lsquo;Twice-Told Tales&rsquo; turned our thoughts to popular superstitions;
+and, as they made me chairman, I thought it an interesting
+subject just now to present to the Club.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More interesting than profitable, I am thinking. Still, the subject
+might be made instructive and useful as well as amusing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Did you ever see a ghost?&rdquo; asked Charlie of Gentleman Jo, after
+Master Lewis left them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We thought we had one in our house, when I was living with my
+sister in Hingham, before the war. Hingham used to be famous for
+its ghost stories; an old house without its ghost was thought to lack
+historic tone and finish.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gentleman Jo took a story-telling attitude, and a number of the
+pupils gathered around him.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">GENTLEMAN JO&rsquo;S GHOST STORY.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>I shall never forget the scene of excitement, when one morning Biddy, our
+domestic, entered the sitting-room, her head bobbing, her hair flying, and her
+cap perched upon the top of her head, and exclaimed: &ldquo;Wurrah! I have seen
+a ghoust, and it&rsquo;s lave the hoose I must. Sich a night! I&rsquo;d niver pass anither
+the like of it for the gift o&rsquo; the hoose. Bad kick to ye, an&rsquo; the hoose is haunted
+for sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Biddy, what have you seen?&rdquo; asked my sister, in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seen? An&rsquo; sure I didn&rsquo;t see nothin&rsquo;. I jist shet me eyes and hid mesilf
+under the piller. But it was awful. An&rsquo; the way it clanked its chain! O murther!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
+This last remark was rather startling. Spirits that clank their chains have
+a very unenviable reputation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pooh!&rdquo; said my uncle. &ldquo;What you heard was nothing but rats.&rdquo; Then,
+turning to me, he asked: &ldquo;Where is the steel trap?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Stolen, I think,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;I set it day before
+yesterday, and when I went to look to it it was gone.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; will ye be givin&rsquo; me the wages?&rdquo; said
+Biddy, &ldquo;afore I bid ye good-marnin&rsquo;?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Going?&rdquo; asked my sister, in astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;An&rsquo; sure I am,&rdquo; answered Biddy. &ldquo;Ye don&rsquo;t
+think I&rsquo;d be afther stayin&rsquo; in a house that&rsquo;s haunted,
+do ye?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a few minutes I heard the front door bang,
+and, looking out, saw our late domestic, with a budget
+on each arm, trudging off as though her ideas were of
+a very lively character.</p>
+
+<p>A colored woman, recently from the South, took
+Biddy&rsquo;s place that very day, and was assigned the
+same room in which the latter had slept.</p>
+
+<p>We had invited company for that evening, and
+some of the guests remained to a very late hour.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of voices subsided as one after another
+departed, and we were left quietly chatting with
+the few who remained. Suddenly there was a mysterious
+movement at one of the back parlor doors, and
+we saw two white eyes casting furtive glances into the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s wanted?&rdquo; demanded my sister, of the
+object at the door.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 144px;">
+<a name="ive_seen_de_debble" id="ive_seen_de_debble"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl008.jpg" width="144" height="400"
+alt="Biddy&#39;s replacement peers around the door" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;I&rsquo;VE SEEN DE DEBBLE.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Our new domestic appeared in her night clothes.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O missus, I&rsquo;ve seen de debble, I done have,&rdquo; was her first exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>This, certainly, was not a sight that we should wish any one to see in our
+house, as desirable as a dignified spectre might have been.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pooh!&rdquo; said my sister. &ldquo;What a silly creature! Go back to bed and to
+sleep, and do not shame us by appearing before company in your night clothes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t keer nothing about my night clothes,&rdquo; she replied, with spirit.
+&ldquo;Jes&rsquo; go to de room and git de things dat belong to me, an&rsquo; I&rsquo;ll leave, and never
+disturb you nor dis house any more. It&rsquo;s dreadful enough to be visited by dead
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
+folks, any way, but when de spirits comes rattling a chain it&rsquo;s a dreadful bad
+sign, you may be sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What did you see?&rdquo; asked I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;See? I didn&rsquo;t see nothin&rsquo;. &rsquo;Twas bad enough to hear it. I wouldn&rsquo;t
+hav&rsquo; seen it for de world. I&rsquo;ll go quick&mdash;jest as soon as you gets de things.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We made her a bed on a lounge below stairs. The next morning she took
+her bundles and made a speedy exit.</p>
+
+<p>We had a maiden aunt who obtained a livelihood by visiting her relations.
+On the morning when our last domestic left she arrived, bag and baggage, greatly
+to our annoyance. We said nothing about the disturbances to her, but agreed
+among ourselves that she should sleep in the haunted chamber.</p>
+
+<p>That night, about twelve o&rsquo;clock, the household were awakened by a piercing
+scream above stairs. All was silent for a few minutes, when the house echoed
+with the startling cry of &ldquo;Murder! Mur<em>der</em>! Mur<span class="smcap">der</span>!&rdquo; The accent was very
+strong on the last syllable in the last two words, as though the particular force
+of the exclamation
+was
+therein contained.</p>
+
+<p>I hurried
+to the chamber
+and asked
+at the door
+what was the
+matter.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have
+seen an apparatus,&rdquo;
+exclaimed
+my
+aunt. &ldquo;Mur<em>der</em>! Oh, wait a minute. I&rsquo;m a dead woman.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 400px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="cat_and_rat" id="cat_and_rat"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl009.jpg" width="400" height="227"
+alt="Cat and rat" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>She unlocked the door in a delirious way and descended to the sitting-room,
+where she sat sobbing for a long time, declaring that she was a dead woman.
+<em>She</em> had heard his chain rattle.</p>
+
+<p>And the next morning she likewise left.</p>
+
+<p>We now felt uneasy ourselves, and wondered what marvel the following night
+would produce. I examined the room carefully during the day, but could discover
+no traces of anything unusual.</p>
+
+<p>That night we were again awakened by noises that proceeded from the same
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
+room. They seemed like the footfalls of a person whose feet were clad in iron.
+Then followed sounds like a scuffle.</p>
+
+<p>I rose, and, taking a light, went to the chamber with shaky knees and a palpitating
+heart. I listened before the door. Presently there was a movement in
+the room as of some one dragging a chain. My courage began to ebb. I was
+half resolved to retreat at once, and on the morrow advise the family to quit the
+premises.</p>
+
+<p>But my better judgment at last prevailed, and, opening the door with a nervous
+hand, I saw an &ldquo;apparatus&rdquo; indeed.</p>
+
+<p>Our old cat, that I had left accidentally in the room, had in her claws a large
+rat, to whose leg was attached the missing trap, and to the trap a short chain.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;I knew the story would end in that way,&rdquo; said Charlie. &ldquo;But that
+is not a true colonial ghost story, if it did happen in old Hingham.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The sun was going down beyond the Waltham Hills. The shadows
+of the maples were lengthening upon the lawns, and the chirp
+of the crickets was heard in the old walls. Charlie seemed quite dissatisfied
+with Gentleman Jo&rsquo;s story. The latter noticed it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My story does not please you?&rdquo; said Gentleman Jo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; I am in a different mood to-night.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Master Lewis smiled.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a quiet old lady, who had charge of a part of the rooms
+in the Academy, appeared, a bunch of keys jingling by her side, much
+like the wife of a porter of a lodge in an English castle.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Grandmother Golden,&rdquo; said Charlie,&mdash;the boys were accustomed
+to address the chatty, familiar old lady in this way,&mdash;&ldquo;you have seen
+ghosts, haven&rsquo;t you? What is the most startling thing that ever happened
+in your life?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Grandmother Golden had seated herself in one of the easy piazza
+chairs. After a few minutes she was induced to follow Gentleman Jo
+in an old-time story.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">GRANDMOTHER GOLDEN&rsquo;S ONLY GHOST STORY.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The custom in old times, when a person died, was for some one to sit in the
+room and watch with the dead body in the night, as long as it remained in the
+house. A good, pious custom it
+was, in my way of thinking,
+though it is not common now.</p>
+
+<p>Jemmy Robbin was a poor
+old man. They used to call him
+&ldquo;Auld Robin Gray,&rdquo; after the
+song, and he lived and died alone.
+His sister Dorothea&mdash;Dorothy
+she was commonly called&mdash;took
+charge of the house after his
+death, and she sent for Grandfather
+Golden to watch one night
+with the corpse.</p>
+
+<p>We were just married, grandfather
+and I, and he wanted I
+should watch with him, for company;
+and as I could not bear
+that he should be out of my sight
+a minute when I could help it,
+I consented. I was young and
+foolish then, and very fond of
+grandfather,&mdash;we were in our
+honeymoon, you know.</p>
+
+<p>We didn&rsquo;t go to the house at
+a very early hour of the evening;
+it wasn&rsquo;t customary for the watchers
+to go until it was nearly time
+for the family to retire.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 301px;">
+<a name="grandmother_golden" id="grandmother_golden"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl010.jpg" width="301" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GRANDMOTHER GOLDEN.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>In the course of the evening
+there came to the house a traveller,&mdash;a poor Irishman,&mdash;an old man, evidently
+honest, but rather simple, who asked Dorothy for a lodging.</p>
+
+<p>He said he had travelled far, was hungry, weary, and footsore, and if turned
+away, knew not where he could go.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
+It was a stormy night, and the good heart of Dorothy was touched at the
+story of the stranger, so she told him that he might stay.</p>
+
+<p>After he had warmed himself and eaten the food she prepared for him, she
+asked him to retire, saying that she expected company. Instead of going with
+him to show where he was to sleep, as she ought to have done, she directed him
+to his room, furnished him with a light, and bade him good-night.</p>
+
+<p>The Irishman, as I have said, was an old man and not very clear-headed.
+Forgetting his directions, and mistaking the room, he entered the chamber where
+lay the body of poor Jemmy Robbin. In closing the door the light was blown
+out. He found there was what seemed to be some other person in the bed, and,
+supposing him a live bedfellow, quietly lay down, covered himself with a counterpane,
+and soon fell asleep.</p>
+
+<p>About ten o&rsquo;clock grandfather and I entered the room. We just glanced at
+the bed. What seemed to be the corpse lay there, as it should. Then grandfather
+sat down in an easy-chair, and I, like a silly hussy, sat down in his lap.</p>
+
+<p>We were having a nice time, talking about what we would do and how
+happy we should be when we went to housekeeping, when, all at once, I heard
+a snore. It came from the bed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; said I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That?&rdquo; said grandfather. &ldquo;Mercy! that was Jemmy Robbin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>We listened nervously, but heard nothing more, and at last concluded that
+it was the wind that had startled us. I gave grandfather a generous kiss, and
+it calmed his agitation wonderfully.</p>
+
+<p>We grew cheerful, laughed at our fright, and were chatting away again as
+briskly as before, when there was a noise in bed. We were silent in a moment.
+The counterpane certainly moved. Grandfather&rsquo;s eyes almost started from his
+head. The next instant there was a violent sneeze.</p>
+
+<p>I jumped as if shot. Grandfather seemed petrified. He attempted to
+ejaculate something, but was scared by the sound of his own voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mercy!&rdquo; says I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What was it?&rdquo; said grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let&rsquo;s go and call Dorothy,&rdquo; said I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She would be frightened out of her senses.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall die with fright if I hear anything more,&rdquo; I said, half dead already
+with fear.</p>
+
+<p>Just then a figure started up in the bed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And wha&mdash;and wha&mdash;and wha&mdash;&rdquo; mumbled the object, gesticulating.</p>
+
+<p>I sprang for the door, grandfather after me, and, reaching the bottom of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
+stairs at one bound, gave vent to my terrors by a scream,
+that, for aught I know, could have been heard a mile distant.</p>
+
+<p>Both of us ran for Dorothy&rsquo;s room. There was a
+sound of feet and a loud ejaculation of &ldquo;Holy Peter!
+The man is dead!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s comin&rsquo;,&rdquo; shouted grandfather, and, sure enough,
+there were footsteps on the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Dorothy! Dorothy!&rdquo; I screamed.
+Dorothy, startled from her
+sleep, came rushing to the entry in
+her night-dress.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 433px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="the_frightened_irishman" id="the_frightened_irishman"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl011.jpg" width="433" height="400"
+alt="The Irishman coming down the stairs, the others looking up at him" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;I have seen a ghost, Dorothy,&rdquo;
+said I.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A what?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have seen the awfullest&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s comin&rsquo;,&rdquo; said grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Holy Peter!&rdquo; said an object in the
+darkness. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a dead man in the
+bed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, it&rsquo;s that Irishman,&rdquo; said Dorothy,
+as she heard the voice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What Irishman?&rdquo; asked I. &ldquo;A
+murdered one?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; he&mdash;there&mdash;I suspect that
+he mistook his room and went to bed
+with poor Jemmy.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The mystery now became quite clear. Grandfather looked anything but
+pleased, and declared that he would rather have seen a ghost than to have been
+so foolishly frightened.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; asked Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is all,&rdquo; said Grandmother Golden. &ldquo;Just hear the crickets
+chirp. Sounds dreadful mournful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have been twice disappointed,&rdquo; said Charlie. &ldquo;Perhaps, Master
+Lewis, you can tell us a story before we go in. Something fine and
+historic.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
+&ldquo;In harmony with books you are reading?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And the spirit of Nature,&rdquo; added Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How fine that there boy talks,&rdquo; said Grandmother Golden. &ldquo;Get
+to be a minister some day, I reckon.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How would the <em>True</em> Story of Macbeth answer?&rdquo; asked Master
+Lewis.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That would be excellent: Shakspeare. The greatest ghost story
+ever written.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And if you don&rsquo;t mind, I&rsquo;ll just wait and hear that story, too,&rdquo;
+said good-humored Grandmother Golden.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">MASTER LEWIS&rsquo;S STORY OF MACBETH.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>More than eight hundred years ago, when the Roman wall divided England
+from Scotland, when the Scots and Picts had become one people, and when the
+countries of Northern Europe were disquieted by the ships of the Danes, there
+was a king of the Scots, named Duncan. He was a very old man, and long,
+long after he was dead, certain writers discovered that he was a very good man.
+He had two sons, named Malcolm and Donaldbain.</p>
+
+<p>Now, when Duncan was enfeebled by years, a great fleet of Danes, under
+the command of Suene, King of Denmark and Norway, landed an army on the
+Scottish coast. Duncan was unable to take the field against the invaders in
+person, and his sons were too young for such a trust. He had a kinsman, who
+had proved himself a brave soldier, named Macbeth. He placed this kinsman
+at the head of his troops; and certain writers, long, long after the event, discovered
+that this kinsman appointed a relation of his own, named Banquo, to assist
+him. Macbeth and Banquo defeated the Danes in a hard-fought battle, and then
+set out for a town called Forres to rest and to make merry over their victory.</p>
+
+<p>A thane was the governor of a province. The father of Macbeth was the
+thane of Glamis.</p>
+
+<p>There lived at Forres three old women, whom the people believed to be
+witches. When these old women heard that Macbeth was coming to the place
+they went out to meet him, and awaited his coming on a great heath. The first
+old woman saluted him on his approach with these words: &ldquo;All hail, Macbeth&mdash;hail
+to thee, thane of Glamis!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>And the second: &ldquo;All hail, Macbeth&mdash;hail to thee, thane of Cawdor!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
+And the third: &ldquo;All hail, Macbeth&mdash;thou shalt be king of Scotland!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Macbeth was very much astonished at these salutations; he expected to
+become thane of Glamis some day, and he aspired to be king of Scotland, but
+he had never anticipated such a disclosure of his destiny as this. The old
+women told Banquo that he would become the father of kings, and then they
+vanished, according to Shakspeare, &ldquo;into the air.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Macbeth and Banquo rode on very much elevated in spirits, when one met
+them who informed them that the thane of Glamis was dead. The melancholy
+event was not unwelcome to Macbeth; his spirits rose to a still higher pitch;
+one thing that the old women had foretold had speedily come to pass,&mdash;he was
+indeed thane of Glamis.</p>
+
+<p>As Macbeth drew near the town, a glittering court party came out to welcome
+the army. They hailed Macbeth as thane of Cawdor. He was much
+surprised at this, and asked the meaning. They told him that the thane of
+Cawdor had rebelled, and that the king had bestowed the province upon him.
+Macbeth was immensely delighted at this intelligence, feeling quite sure that
+the rest of the prophecy would come to pass, and that he would one day wear
+the diadem.</p>
+
+<p>Now the wife of Macbeth was a very wicked woman, and the prophecy of
+the witches quite turned her head, so that she could think of nothing but becoming
+queen. She was much concerned lest the nature of her husband should
+prove &ldquo;too full of the milk of human kindness&rdquo; to come to the &ldquo;golden round.&rdquo;
+So she decided that should an opportunity offer itself for an interview with the
+king, she would somewhat assist in the fulfilment of the last prophecy.</p>
+
+<p>Then Macbeth made a great feast in the grand old castle of Inverness, and
+invited the king. Lady Macbeth thought this a golden opportunity for accomplishing
+the decrees of destiny, and when the old king arrived she told Macbeth
+that the time had come for him to strike boldly for the crown. As Shakspeare
+says:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Macbeth.</i> My dearest love, Duncan comes here to-night.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lady M.</i> And when goes hence?</p>
+
+<p><i>Macbeth.</i> To-morrow.</p>
+
+<p><i>Lady M.</i> O never shall sun that morrow see.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>When this dreadful woman had laid her plot for the taking off of Duncan,
+she went to the banquet-hall and greeted the royal guest with a face all radiant
+with smiles, and called him sweet names, and told him fine stories, and brimmed
+his goblet with wine, so that he thought, we doubt not, that she was the most
+charming creature in all the world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
+It was a stormy night, that of the banquet; it rained, it thundered, and
+the wind made dreadful noises in the forests, which events, we have noticed in
+the stories of the old writers, were apt to occur in early times when something
+was about to happen. We are also informed that the owls
+hooted, which seems probable, as owls were quite plenty in
+those days.</p>
+
+<p>Duncan was conducted to a chamber, which had been
+prepared for him in great state, when the feast was done.
+Before retiring he sent to &ldquo;his most kind hostess&rdquo;
+a large diamond as a present; he then fell
+asleep &ldquo;in measureless content.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When all was still in the
+castle Lady Macbeth told her
+husband that the hour for the
+deed had come. He hesitated, and
+reminded her of the consequences
+if he should fail. She taunted him
+as being a coward, and told him to
+&ldquo;screw his courage up to the sticking-place,
+and he would not fail.&rdquo;
+Then he took his dagger, and, according
+to Shakspeare, made a long
+speech over it, a speech which, I
+am sorry to say, stage-struck boys
+and girls have been mouthing in a
+most unearthly manner ever since the days of Queen Bess.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="duncan_asleep" id="duncan_asleep"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl012.jpg" width="500" height="447"
+alt="Macbeth murders Duncan" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Macbeth &ldquo;screwed his courage up to the sticking-place&rdquo; indeed, and then
+and there was the end of the life of Duncan. When the deed was done, he put
+his poniard into the hand of a sentinel, who was sleeping in the king&rsquo;s room,
+under the influence of wine that Lady Macbeth had drugged.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 434px;">
+<a name="witches" id="witches"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl013.jpg" width="434" height="600"
+alt="Macbeth visits the witches" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">WITCHES.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>When the meal was prepared on the following morning, Macbeth and his
+lady pretended to be much surprised that the old king did not get up. Macduff,
+the thane of Fife, who was one of the royal party, decided at last to go to the
+king&rsquo;s apartment to see if the king was well. He returned speedily in great
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
+excitement, as one may well suppose. As Shakspeare continues the interesting
+narrative:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;<i>Macduff.</i> O horror! horror! horror!</p>
+
+<p><i>Macbeth.</i> What&rsquo;s the matter?</p>
+
+<p><i>Macd.</i> Confusion now hath made his masterpiece. Most sacrilegious murder hath broke
+ope the Lord&rsquo;s anointed temple and stole thence the life o&rsquo; the building.</p>
+
+<p><i>Macb.</i> What is &rsquo;t you say? the life?&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Macbeth appeared to be greatly shocked by the event, and, with a great show
+of fury and many hot words, he despatched the sentinels of the king, whom he
+feigned to believe had done the deed. Lady Macbeth fell upon the floor, pretending,
+of all things in the world for a woman of such mettle, to faint.</p>
+
+<p>So Macbeth came to the throne. But he remembered that the weird women
+had foretold that Banquo should become the father of kings, which made him
+fear for the stability of his throne. He thought to correct the tables of destiny
+somewhat, and so he induced two desperate men to do by Banquo as he had
+done by Duncan. The spirit of Banquo was not quiet like Duncan&rsquo;s, but haunted
+him, and twice appeared to him at a great feast that he gave to the thanes.</p>
+
+<p>Now Banquo had a son named Fleance, whom the murderers were instructed
+to kill, but who, on the death of his father, eluded his enemies and fled to France.
+The story-writers say that the line of Stuart was descended from this son.</p>
+
+<p>Macbeth, like all wicked people who accomplish their ends, was very unhappy.
+He lived in continual fear lest some of his relations should do by him as he had
+done by Duncan and Banquo. He became so miserable at last that he decided
+to consult the witches who had foretold his elevation, to hear what they would
+say of the rest of his life.</p>
+
+<p>He found them in a dark cave, in the middle of which was a caldron boiling.
+The old women had put into the pot a toad, the toe of a frog, the wool of a bat,
+an adder&rsquo;s tongue, an owl&rsquo;s wing, and many other things, of which you will find
+the list in Shakspeare. Now and then they walked around the pot, repeating a
+very sensible ditty:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Double, double, toil and trouble;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fire, burn; and, caldron, bubble.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>They at last called up an apparition, who said that Macbeth should never be
+overcome by his enemies until Birnam wood should come to the castle of Dunsinane,
+the royal residence, to attack it.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Macbeth shall never vanquished be until<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall come against him.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
+Now, Birnam wood was twelve miles from Dunsinane (pronounced Dunsnan),
+and Macbeth thought that the language was a mystical way of saying that he
+always would be exempt from danger.</p>
+
+<p>Malcolm, the son of Duncan, the rightful heir to the throne, was a man of
+spirit, and he went to England to solicit aid of the good King Edward the Confessor
+against Macbeth. Macduff, having quarrelled with the king, joined Malcolm,
+and the English king, thinking favorably of their cause, sent a great army
+into Scotland to discrown Macbeth.</p>
+
+<p>When this army reached Birnam wood, on its way to Dunsinane, Macduff
+ordered the men each to take the bough of a tree, and to hold it before him as
+he marched to the attack, that Macbeth might not be able to discover the number
+and the strength of the assailants. Thus Birnam wood came against Dunsinane.
+When Macbeth saw the sight his courage failed him, and he saw that his
+hour had come. A battle ensued, in which he was conquered and killed.</p>
+
+
+<p class="smlpadt">Such is the story, and it seems a pity to spoil so good a story; but I fear
+that Shakspeare made his wonderful plot of much the same &ldquo;stuff that dreams
+are made of.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Duncan was a grandson of Malcolm II. on his father&rsquo;s side, and Macbeth
+was a grandson of the same king, though on the side of his mother. On the
+death of Malcolm, in 1033, each claimed the throne. Macbeth, according to rule
+of Scottish succession, had the best claim, but Duncan obtained the power.
+Macbeth was naturally dissatisfied, and the insolence of Malcolm, the son of
+Duncan, who placed himself at the head of an intriguing party in Northumberland,
+changed his dissatisfaction to resentment, and he slew the king. He once
+had a dream, which he deemed remarkable, in which three old women met him
+and hailed him as thane of Cromarty, thane of Moray, and finally as king.
+Upon this light basis genius has built one of the most powerful tales of superstition
+in the language.</p>
+
+<p>Duncan was slain near Elgin, and not in the castle of Inverness. Malcolm
+avenged his father&rsquo;s death, slaying Macbeth at a place called Lumphanan, and
+not at Dunsinane, as recorded in the play.</p>
+
+<p>And then Sir Walter Scott finds that &ldquo;Banquo and his son Fleance&rdquo; never
+had any real existence, which leaves no material out of which to construct a
+ghost.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;So there were no witches, after all?&rdquo; said Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; no witches.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
+&ldquo;No Banquo?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No Banquo.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No ghost?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No ghost. Banquo never lived.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that all?&rdquo; asked Grandmother Golden.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is all.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>A STORY-TELLING JOURNEY.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Club Reorganized.&mdash;The Rhine and the Lands of the Baltic.&mdash;Tommy
+Toby&rsquo;s Story of the Six Boy Kings.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapa"><span class="dropcap">A</span></span>T the first formal meeting of the Club Charlie Leland
+was chosen President. He was the intellectual
+leader among the boys, now that the old Class had
+gone; he was a lad of good principles, bright, generous,
+and popular. As may be judged from the
+somewhat discursive dialogue on the piazza, he
+had a subject well matured in his mind for the literary exercises of the
+Club.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We all like stories,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and the Rhine lands are regions of
+stories, as are the countries of the Baltic Sea. The tales and traditions
+of the Rhine would give us a large knowledge of German history,
+and, in fact, of the great empire of Europe, over which Charlemagne
+ruled, and which now is divided into the kingdoms of Northern
+Europe. The stories of haunted castles, spectres, water nymphs, sylvan
+deities, and fairies, if shapes of fancy, are full of instruction, and
+I know of no subject so likely to prove intensely interesting as the
+Rhine and the Baltic; and I would like to propose it to the Club for
+consideration, although, owing to my position as President, I do not
+make a formal motion that it be adopted.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 447px;">
+<a name="the_grand_ducal_castle_schwerin" id="the_grand_ducal_castle_schwerin"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl014.jpg" width="447" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE GRAND-DUCAL CASTLE, SCHWERIN.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie&rsquo;s picturesque allusion to the myths of the Rhine and the
+Baltic seemed to act like magic on the minds of the Club; and a formal
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
+motion that the Rhine and the Baltic be the subject of future literary
+meetings was at once made, seconded, and unanimously adopted.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 372px;">
+<a name="ancient_german_houses" id="ancient_german_houses"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl015.jpg" width="372" height="550" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ANCIENT GERMAN HOUSES.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
+Master Lewis had entered the room quietly while the business of
+the Club was being thus happily and unanimously carried forward.
+The boys had asked him to be present at the meeting, and to give
+them his opinions of their plans.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that your choice of a subject for your literary
+evenings is an excellent one, but I notice a tendency to place more
+stress on the fine old fictions of Germany and the North than upon
+actual history. These fictions for the most part grew out of the disturbed
+consciences of bad men in ignorant and barbarous times. They
+were shapes of the imagination.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me prepare your minds a little for a proper estimate of these
+alluring and entertaining stories.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">MASTER LEWIS ON POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The front of Northumberland House, England, used to be ornamented with
+the bronze statue of a lion, called Percy. A humorist, wishing to produce a
+sensation, placed himself in front of the building, one day, and, assuming an
+attitude of astonishment, exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It wags, it wags!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His eyes were riveted on the statue, to which the bystanders readily
+observed that the exclamation referred. Quite a number of persons collected,
+each one gazing on the bronze figure, expecting to see the phenomenon. Their
+imagination supplied the desired marvel, and presently a street full of people
+fancied that they could see the lion Percy wag his tail!</p>
+
+<p>An old distich runs something as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Who believe that there are witches, there the witches are;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who believe there aren&rsquo;t no witches, aren&rsquo;t no witches there.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is much more good sense than poetry in these lines. The marvels
+of superstition are witnessed chiefly by those who believe in them.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 438px;">
+<a name="ancient_religious_rites_of_the_peasants" id="ancient_religious_rites_of_the_peasants"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl016.jpg" width="438" height="600"
+alt="A small group gather round a cauldron in the woods" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ANCIENT RELIGIOUS RITES OF THE PEASANTS.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The sights held as supernatural are usually not more wonderful than those
+that arise from a disordered imagination. The spectres of demonology are not
+more fearful than those shapes of fancy produced by opium and dissipation; and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
+the visions of the necromancer are not more wonderful than those that arise
+from a fever, or even from a troubled sleep.</p>
+
+<p>Yet it is a fact, and a very singular one, that, however at random the fancies
+of unhealthy intellects may appear on ordinary subjects, those fancies obtain a
+greater or less credit when they touch upon supernatural things. Instances of
+monomaniacs (persons insane on a single subject) who have imagined things
+quite as marvellous as the most superstitious, but whose illusions have been
+treated with the greatest ridicule, might be cited almost without limit.</p>
+
+<p>I once knew of an elderly lady, who thought that she was a goose. Making
+a nest in one corner of the room, she put in it a few kitchen utensils, which
+she supposed to be eggs, and began to incubate. She found the process of incubation,
+in her case, a very slow one; and her friends, fearing for her health,
+called in a doctor. He endeavored to reason with her, but she only replied
+to his philosophy by stretching out her neck, which she seemed to think was a
+remarkably long one, and hissing. The old lady had a set of gilt-band china
+cups and saucers, which, in her eyes, had been a sort of household gods. The
+knowledge of the fact coming to the ears of the physician, he advised her friends
+to break the precious treasures, one after another, before her eyes. The plan
+worked admirably. She immediately left her nest, and ran to the rescue of the
+china, and the excitement brought her back to her sense of the proprieties of
+womanhood.</p>
+
+<p>Another old lady, who also resided in a neighboring town, fancied she had
+become a veritable teapot. She used to silence those who attempted to reason
+with her by the luminous argument, &ldquo;See, here (crooking one arm at her side)
+is the handle, and there (thrusting upward her other arm) is the spout!&rdquo; What
+could be more convincing than that?</p>
+
+<p>Another lady, whose faculties had begun to decline, thought her toes were
+made of glass; and a comical figure she cut when she went abroad, picking up
+and putting down her feet with the greatest caution, lest she should injure her
+precious toes.</p>
+
+<p>Now these cases provoke a smile; but, had these ancient damsels fancied
+that they were bewitched, or that they were haunted, or that they held communion
+with the spirits of the invisible world, instead of exciting laughter and pity,
+they would have occasioned no small excitement among the simple-minded
+people of the neighborhood in which each resided.</p>
+
+<p>A young Scottish farmer, having been to a fair, was riding homeward on
+horseback one evening over a lonely road.</p>
+
+<p>He had been drinking rather freely at the fair, according to the custom, and
+his head was far from steady, and his conscience far from easy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
+It was moonlight, and he began to reflect what a dreadful thing it would be
+to meet a ghost. His fears caused him to look very carefully about him. As
+he was approaching the old church in Teviotdale, he saw a figure in white standing
+on the wall of the churchyard, by the highway.</p>
+
+<p>The sight gave him a start, but he continued his journey, hoping that it was
+his imagination that had invested some natural object with a ghostly shape.
+But the nearer he approached, the more ghostlike and mysterious did the figure
+appear.</p>
+
+<p>He stopped, hesitating what to do, and then concluded to ride slowly. There
+was no other way to his home than the one he was following. He knew well
+enough that his mind was somewhat unsettled by drinking, and what he saw
+might, after all, he thought, be nothing but an illusion. He would approach the
+object slowly and cautiously, and, when very near it, would put spurs to his horse
+and dash by.</p>
+
+<p>As he drew near, however, the figure showed unmistakable signs of life,
+gesticulating mysteriously, and uttering gibberish, that, although odd, sounded
+surprisingly human.</p>
+
+<p>It was a ghostly night: the dim moonlight filled the silent air, and the landscape
+was flecked with shadows; it was a ghostly place,&mdash;Teviotdale churchyard;
+and, in perfect keeping with the time and place, stood the figure, doing as
+a ghost is supposed to do,&mdash;talking gibberish to the moon.</p>
+
+<p>The young man&rsquo;s nerves were quite unstrung as he put spurs to his horse
+for a rush by the object of his fright. As he dashed past, his hair almost bristling
+with apprehension, the supposed phantom leaped upon the back of the
+horse and clasped the frightened man about his waist. His apprehensions were
+startling enough before, but now he was wrought to the highest pitch of terror.</p>
+
+<p>He drove his spurs into his horse, and the animal flew over the earth like a
+phantom steed. Such riding never before was seen in the winding road of
+Teviotdale.</p>
+
+<p>In a wonderfully short time the reeking animal stood trembling and panting
+before his master&rsquo;s gate. The young man called lustily for his servants, who,
+coming out, were commanded in frantic tones to &ldquo;Tak aff the ghaist, tak aff the
+ghaist!&rdquo; And &ldquo;tak aff the ghaist&rdquo; they did, which proved to be a young lady
+well known in Teviotdale for her unfortunate history.</p>
+
+<p>She had married an estimable young man, to whom she was very strongly
+attached, and the brightest worldly prospects seemed opening before her. Her
+husband was taken ill, and suddenly died. She had confided in him so fondly
+that the world lost its attractions for her on his decease, and she moodily dwelt
+upon her misfortune until she became deranged.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+Her husband was buried in Teviotdale churchyard, and she was in the habit
+of stealing away from her friends at night, to weep over his grave. These melancholy
+visits had the effect of giving a new impetus to her malady, making her
+for a time the victim of any fancy that chanced to enter her mind.</p>
+
+<p>On the night of our story she imagined that the young farmer was her husband,
+and awaited his approach with great exhilaration of spirits, determined to
+give him an affectionate greeting.</p>
+
+<p>The fright came near costing the young man his life. He was taken from
+his saddle to his bed, where he lay for weeks prostrated by a high nervous
+fever.</p>
+
+<p>An eminent writer, after relating the above authentic story, remarks:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If this woman had dropped from the horse unobserved by the rider, it
+would have been very hard to convince the honest farmer that he had not actually
+performed a part of his journey with a ghost behind him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>True. Teviotdale churchyard would have obtained the reputation of being
+haunted, and would have been a terror to weak-minded people for many years
+to come.</p>
+
+<p>The ignorant and simple are not alone subject to illusions of fancy. The
+great and learned Pascal, than whom France has produced no more worthy
+philosopher, believed that an awful chasm yawned by his side, into which he was
+in danger of being thrown. This dreadful vision, with other fancies as gloomy,
+cast a shadow over an eventful period of his life, and gave a dark coloring to
+certain of his writings. Yet Pascal, on most subjects, was uncommonly sound
+in judgment. How unfavorable might have been the influence, had his disorder
+assumed a different form, and placed before him the delusion of a ghost!</p>
+
+<p>Before giving credit to stories of supernatural events, even from sources that
+seem to be trustworthy, I hope my young friends will consider duly how liable
+to error are an unhealthy mind and an excited imagination. Every man is not a
+knave or a cheat who claims to have witnessed unnatural phenomena, but the
+judgment of very excellent persons is liable to be infected by illusions of the
+imagination.</p>
+
+<p>I do not say that we may not receive impressions from the spiritual world.
+As the geologist, the botanist, the chemist, sees things in nature that the unschooled
+and undeveloped do not see, so it may be that a spiritually educated
+mind may know more of the spiritual world than the gross and selfish mind. I
+will not enlarge upon this topic or discuss this question; it might not be
+proper for me so to do.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
+Master Lewis had aimed to make clear to the boys that it is easy
+to start a superstitious story, and to suggest that such stories in ignorant
+times became <em>legends</em>.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="old_fortress_on_the_rhine" id="old_fortress_on_the_rhine"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl017.jpg" width="500" height="443"
+alt="A ruined fortress perched on a cliff" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">OLD FORTRESS ON THE RHINE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I propose,&rdquo; said Willie Clifton, &ldquo;that the first seven meetings of
+the Club be devoted to the Rhine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We might call this series of meetings <i>Seven Nights on the Rhine</i>,&rdquo;
+added Herman Reed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The old members of the Club who made the Rhine journey with
+Mr. Beal might give us an account of that journey,&rdquo; suggested one of
+the new boys.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
+The plans suggested by these remarks met with approval, and a
+committee was appointed to arrange the literary exercises for seven
+meetings of the Club, to be known as <i>Seven Nights on the Rhine</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The literary exercises for the present evening consisted of the relation
+of historic ghost stories, chiefly by members of the old Club.
+Among these were the Province House Stories of Hawthorne, the
+tradition of Mozart&rsquo;s Requiem, the Cock Lane Ghost, and several
+incidents from Scott&rsquo;s novels.</p>
+
+<p>The principal story, however, was given by Tommy Toby, an old
+member of the Club, and a graduate of the Academy.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">TOMMY TOBY&rsquo;S STORY OF ST. DUNSTAN AND THE DEVIL
+AND THE SIX BOY KINGS.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>A splendid court had Athelstane, and foreign princes came there to be
+educated. Among these princes was Louis, the son of Charles the Simple,
+of France, who, by his long residence in England, obtained the pretty name of
+<i>Louis d&rsquo;Outremer</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Splendid weddings were celebrated there. The king married one of his
+sisters to the King of France, another to the Emperor of Germany, another to
+Hugo the Great, Count of Paris, and another to the Duke of Aquitaine.</p>
+
+<p>After the fight with the Cornish men, all of the land was at peace for many
+years, and the nobility became very scholarly and the people very polite.</p>
+
+<p>Athelstane had a favorite, a friar, who made more mischief in his day and
+generation than any other man. This man is known in history by the name of
+St. Dunstan.</p>
+
+<p>When Dunstan was a boy, he was taken very ill of a fever. One night, being
+delirious, he got up from his bed, and walked to Glastonbury church, which was
+then repairing, and ascended the scaffolds and went all over the building; and
+because he did not tumble off and break his neck, people said that he had performed
+the feat under the influence of inspiration, being directed by an angel.</p>
+
+<p>This was called Dunstan&rsquo;s first miracle.</p>
+
+<p>When he recovered from the fever, and heard of the miracle that he was said
+to have wrought, he was greatly pleased, and thought to turn the good opinion
+of people to his own advantage by performing other miracles.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
+So he made a harp that played in the wind,&mdash;now soft, now loud; now
+sweet, now solemn. He said that the harp played itself. The people heard the
+sounds, full of seeming expression, as though touched by airy fingers, and, as
+they could not discredit the evidence of their own ears, they too reported that
+the harp played itself. And great was the fame of Dunstan&rsquo;s harp.</p>
+
+<p>But Dunstan, according to old history, became a very bad man; so bad that
+I cannot tell you the worst things that he did. He discovered his true character
+at last, notwithstanding his sweetly playing harp.</p>
+
+<p>He pretended to be a magician. Now a magician, in those old times, was
+one who was supposed to know things beyond the reach of common minds, who
+pretended to calculate the influence of the stars on a person&rsquo;s destiny, and who
+understood the effects of poisonous vegetables and minerals. The Saxon
+magicians were chiefly nobles and monks, and all of their great secrets which
+are worth knowing are now understood as simple matters of science, even by
+schoolboys.</p>
+
+<p>Athelstane&rsquo;s conscience must have been rather restless, I fancy, concerning
+young Edwin, his brother, whom he caused to be drowned; and people with
+unquiet conscience are usually very superstitious. At any rate, he made a
+bosom friend of Dunstan, after the latter took up the black art, and became
+greatly interested in magic, much to the sorrow of the people.</p>
+
+<p>At last a party of the king&rsquo;s friends resolved that the bad influence of the
+wily prelate should come to an end. They waylaid him one dark night, in an
+unfrequented place, and, binding him hand and foot, threw him into a miry
+marsh. But the water was shallow, and Dunstan kept his nose above the mire,
+and, after shouting lustily for help, and floundering about for a long time, he
+succeeded in getting out, to make a great deal of noise and trouble in the world,
+and we have some strange stories to tell you about him yet.</p>
+
+<p>Athelstane died in the year 940, and he was succeeded upon the throne by
+his half-brother, Edmund, who was the first of the six boy kings.</p>
+
+<p>Edmund was eighteen years of age when he took his place on the honorable
+Saxon throne of Alfred the Great. He was a high-spirited young man, warm-hearted
+and brave. He conquered Cumberland from the Ancient Britons, and
+protected his kingdom against the fierce sea-kings of the North. Like his great
+ancestor, King Alfred, he was fond of learning and art. He improved and
+adorned public places and buildings. He made a very elegant appearance, and
+held a showy court, and they called him the Magnificent.</p>
+
+<p>But Edmund was fond of convivial suppers, and used himself to drink deeply
+of wine. He lived fast, and his friends lived fast, though they appeared to live
+very happily and merrily.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
+But young men given to festive suppers and to wine are not apt to make a
+long history; and the history of Edmund the Magnificent, the first boy king,
+was a short one.</p>
+
+<p>Edmund was succeeded in the year 946 by Edred, his brother, a well-meaning
+youth, who was the second of the six boy kings of England.</p>
+
+<p>Dunstan had become abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, the church where he
+performed the miracle when he was sick of the fever. He was very ambitious
+to meddle in affairs of state, but his bad name had weakened his influence with
+Edmund, and it seemed likely to do the same with well-intentioned Edred. He
+desired to
+create a public
+impression
+again
+that he was
+a saint.</p>
+
+<p>He retired
+to a
+cell and
+there spent
+his time
+working
+very hard
+as a smith,
+and&mdash;so the
+report went&mdash;in
+devotion.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 400px;">
+<a name="st_dunstan_and_the_devil" id="st_dunstan_and_the_devil"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl018.jpg" width="400" height="319"
+alt="St. Dunstan seizes the devil&#39;s nose with pincers" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ST. DUNSTAN AND THE DEVIL.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Then the
+people said:
+&ldquo;How humble
+and penitent Dunstan is! He has the back-ache all day, and the leg-ache
+all night, and he suffers all for the cause of purity and truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then Dunstan told the people that the Devil came to tempt him, which, with
+his aches for the good cause, made his situation very trying.</p>
+
+<p>The Devil, he said, wanted him to lead a life of selfish gratification, but he
+would not be tempted to do a thing like that; he never thought of himself,&mdash;oh,
+no, good soul, not he.</p>
+
+<p>The people said that Dunstan must have become a very holy man, or the
+Devil would not appear to him bodily.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
+One day a great noise was heard issuing from the retreat of this man, and
+filling all the air for miles, the like of which was never known before. The
+people were much astonished. Some of them went to Dunstan to inquire the
+cause. He told them a story of a miracle more marvellous than any that he had
+previously done.</p>
+
+<p>The Devil came to him, he said, as he was at work at his forge, and tempted
+him to lead a life of pleasure. He quickly drew his pincers from the fire, and
+seized his tormentor by the nose, which put him in such pain that he bellowed
+so lustily as to shake the hills. The people said that it was the bellowing of
+the Evil One that they had heard.</p>
+
+<p>This wonderful story ended to Dunstan&rsquo;s liking, for the artful do flourish
+briefly sometimes.</p>
+
+<p>The boy king Edred was in ill-health, and suffered from a lingering illness
+for years. He felt the need of the counsel of a good man. He said to himself,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is Dunstan, a man who has given up all selfish feelings and aspirations,
+a man whom even the Devil cannot corrupt. I will bring him to court,
+and will make him my adviser.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then pure-hearted Edred brought the foxy prelate to his court, and made
+him&mdash;of all things in the world!&mdash;the royal treasurer.</p>
+
+<p>Edred died in the year 955, having for nine years aimed to do justly and to
+govern well. His decease, like his brother&rsquo;s before him, was sincerely lamented.</p>
+
+<p>He left a well-ordered government, except in the department of the treasury.
+Some remarkable &ldquo;irregularities&rdquo;&mdash;as stealing is sometimes called nowadays&mdash;had
+taken place there, some of the public money having become mixed up with
+Dunstan&rsquo;s.</p>
+
+<p>The next of the six boy kings of England was Edwy the Fair,&mdash;fifteen years
+of age when he ascended the throne.</p>
+
+<p>He was the son of Edmund,&mdash;a handsome boy, and as good at heart as he
+was handsome. Though so young, he had married a beautiful princess, named
+Elgiva. So we have here a boy king and a girl queen.</p>
+
+<p>As if one bad prelate were not enough, there was, besides Dunstan, another
+great mischief-maker, Odo, the Dane, Archbishop of Canterbury.</p>
+
+<p>The coronation of Edwy was the occasion of great rejoicing. They had a
+sumptuous feast in the evening, attended by all the prelates and thanes. Edwy
+liked the society of the girl queen better than that of these rude people, and in
+the midst of the festivities he retired to the queen&rsquo;s apartment to see her and
+the queen mother.</p>
+
+<p>Odo, the archbishop, noticed that the boy king had left his place at the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+tables. He rightly guessed the reason, and deemed such conduct disrespectful
+to himself and to the guests. So he went and made complaint to Dunstan, and
+Dunstan went to look for the missing king. When the latter came to the
+queen&rsquo;s apartment, and was refused admittance, he broke open the door, upbraided
+Edwy for his absence from the feast, and, seizing him by the collar,
+dragged and pushed him roughly back to the banqueting-hall.</p>
+
+<p>Edwy, of course, resented this treatment. Dunstan replied by accusing him
+of great impropriety, and talked in a very overbearing way, and Edwy, though a
+considerate boy, and of a mild disposition, at last lost his temper.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have a very nice sense of propriety,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You were the treasurer
+in the last reign, I believe. I intend to call you to account for the way that
+you fulfilled your trust.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dunstan was greatly astonished, and, guilty man that he was, he began to
+feel very unsafe.</p>
+
+<p>The boy king made the attempt which he had threatened, to call Dunstan
+to account for his late doings in the treasury. But the latter, when he found
+that Edwy was in earnest, fled to Ghent.</p>
+
+<p>The nobles saw somewhat into his true character when he thus disappeared
+from court, and a party of men was sent in pursuit of him to put out his eyes.
+But he was too foxy to be caught, and arrived safely in Belgium at last, to make
+a great deal of trouble in the world yet.</p>
+
+<p>Incited by Dunstan, Odo raised a rebellion. When he had drawn to himself
+a sufficient party to insure his personal safety, he proclaimed Edgar, the younger
+brother of Edwy, king.</p>
+
+<p>Dunstan returned to England, and joined Odo, and this precious pair soon
+discovered the value of their piety, as you shall presently see.</p>
+
+<p>Edwy the Fair loved the girl queen. She was beautiful as well as amiable,
+and was as devoted to her husband as she was lovely. Odo and Dunstan
+wished to break the spirit of Edwy, and thought to accomplish their end by
+capturing the queen. They caused her to be stolen from one of the royal
+palaces, and her cheeks to be burned with hot irons, in order to destroy the
+beauty that had so enchanted the boy king. They then sent her to Ireland,
+and sold her as a slave.</p>
+
+<p>The Irish people pitied the weeping maiden, and loved her. They healed
+the scars on her cheeks, that the hot irons had made. When her beauty
+returned, she grew light-hearted again, and all her dreams were of the king.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Irish people released her from bondage, and gave her money to
+return to Edwy.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>
+She entered England full of joyful anticipations, and made rapid journeys
+towards the place where Edwy held his court. But Odo and Dunstan, who had
+been apprised of her coming, intercepted her, and ordered that she should be
+tortured and put to death. They caused the cords of her limbs to be severed,
+so that she was unable to walk or move. The beautiful girl survived the cutting
+and maiming but a few days.</p>
+
+<p>Weeping continually over her disappointments and sorrows, and shrieking
+at times from the acuteness of her pain, she died at Gloucester,&mdash;perhaps the
+most unfortunate princess who ever came to the English throne.</p>
+
+<p>When Edwy heard of her death, he ceased to struggle for his right; he
+cared for nothing more. He grew paler and thinner day by day, his beauty
+faded, his thoughts turned heavenward, and he aspired to a better crown and
+kingdom. He died of a broken heart before he reached the age of twenty,
+having aimed for three years to govern well.</p>
+
+<p>Edwy&rsquo;s short reign was followed by that of his brother Edgar, who succeeded
+to the Anglo-Saxon throne in the year 959, and was an unprincipled and
+dissolute king.</p>
+
+<p>He was fifteen years of age when he began to reign. One of his first acts
+was to reward the intriguing Dunstan for his crimes by bestowing upon him the
+archbishopric of Canterbury. Think of conferring an archbishopric as the price
+of a brother&rsquo;s ruin and death! Ah, better to be Edwy the Fair in his early
+grave, with the birds singing and the violets waving above him, than the cruel
+boy Edgar upon the throne.</p>
+
+<p>He resigned the government almost wholly to Dunstan, his primate, and
+spent his time in gayety, pleasure, and ease. He was unstable, profligate, and
+vicious. He once broke into a convent and carried off a beautiful nun, named
+Editha. For this violation of the sanctuary, Dunstan commanded him not to
+wear his crown for seven years, which was no great punishment, as he could
+ornament his head as well in some other way.</p>
+
+<p>Dunstan certainly possessed great ability as a statesman. He employed the
+vast armaments of England against the neighboring sovereigns, and compelled
+the King of Scotland and the Princes of Wales, of the Isle of Man, and of the
+Orkneys, to do homage to Edgar.</p>
+
+<p>The boy king annually made a voyage around England in great state,
+accompanied by princes and nobles.</p>
+
+<p>On one of these occasions, when he wished to visit the Abbey of St. John
+the Baptist, on the River Dee, he appointed eight crowned kings to pull the oars
+of his barge, while he himself acted as steersman.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
+The vainglorious young sovereign then went into the grand old abbey and
+said his prayers, after which he returned in the same pomp, rowed by the eight
+subject kings.</p>
+
+<p>This event is celebrated in the songs and ballads of the olden time, which
+tell of the glory of England, when the eight crowns glimmered on the sun-covered
+waters of the Dee.</p>
+
+<p>Edgar, who was King of England up to the year 975, married twice, and left
+two sons. The elder of these was named Edward, the son of a good queen,
+Ethelfreda; the other was named Ethelred, the son of the bad queen, Elfrida.</p>
+
+<p>Edward had the best claim to the throne, but the intriguing Elfrida endeavored
+to secure the succession to her own son, Ethelred, a boy about seven years
+old. Dunstan decided against her, and caused Edward to be crowned. The
+boy king was at this time thirteen years of age.</p>
+
+<p>He was an amiable, susceptible boy, loving every one, and wishing every
+one well, and believing, with childish simplicity, that all the world was as pure
+at heart and as unselfish as himself.</p>
+
+<p>But Elfrida hated him, and resolved that his reign should be a short one, if
+it was within the reach of her arts to make it so.</p>
+
+<p>She retired with little Ethelred to Crofe Castle, a beautiful country seat in
+Dorsetshire. Green forests waved around it, and blue hills seemed to semicircle
+the sky. The silver horn of the hunter often echoed through the stream-cleft
+woodlands, and merrily blew before the castle gate.</p>
+
+<p>Edward and a youthful court party went hunting one day in the dreamy
+old forests of Dorsetshire. Chancing to ride near Crofe Castle, Edward thought
+that he would like to see Elfrida and his little brother. So he separated himself
+from his attendants, rode to the castle, and blew his horn.</p>
+
+<p>Elfrida presently appeared, her face glowing with smiles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thou art welcome, dear king,&rdquo; she said, in a winning way. &ldquo;Pray dismount
+and come in, and we will have pleasant talk and good cheer.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, madam,&rdquo; said Edward. &ldquo;My company would notice my absence, and
+think that some evil had befallen me. Please bring me a cup of wine, and I will
+drink to your health and to my little brother&rsquo;s, in my saddle, and then I must
+away with speed.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Elfrida turned away to order the wine. She gave another order at the same
+time in a whisper to an armed attendant.</p>
+
+<p>The wine was brought. Elfrida filled the cup and handed it to the boy
+king. As he held it up it sparkled in the light. Elfrida stood in the gateway,
+holding little Ethelred by the hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Health,&rdquo; said Edward, putting the bright cup to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>There crept up behind him softly an armed man, whose muscles stood out
+like brass, and whose eyes burned like fire. He sprang upon the boy king and
+stabbed him in the back. The affrighted horse dashed away, dragging the
+bleeding body by the stirrup,&mdash;on, on, on, over rut and rock, bush and brier.</p>
+
+<p>They tracked him by his blood. They found his broken body at last. They
+took it up tenderly and with many tears, and laid it beneath the moss and fern.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_murder_of_edward" id="the_murder_of_edward"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl019.jpg" width="500" height="281" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE MURDER OF EDWARD.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>When little Ethelred saw his brother stabbed and bleeding, and dragged
+over the rough earth, he began to weep. Elfrida beat him and sent him to his
+chamber.</p>
+
+<p>What a night was that when the moon silvered the forest! One boy king
+mangled and dead on the cold ground, and another boy king weeping in the
+forest castle, and beaten and bruised for being touched at heart at the murder
+of his bright, innocent brother.</p>
+
+<p>Ethelred came to the English throne at the age of ten. He was the last of
+the six boy kings.</p>
+
+<p>The people held him in disfavor from the first on account of his bad mother,
+and when Dunstan put the crown on his head at Kingston, he pronounced a
+curse instead of a blessing. Neither the blessing nor the curse of a man like
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
+Dunstan could be of much account, and we do not believe that the latter did the
+little boy Ethelred any harm.</p>
+
+<p>Dunstan was now old and as full of craft and wickedness as he was full of
+years. He continued to practise jugglery, which he called performing miracles,
+whenever he found his influence declining, or had an important end to accomplish.</p>
+
+<p>In the reign of Ethelred Dunstan died. As he had used politics to help the
+church, he was made a saint. This was in a rude and ignorant age.</p>
+
+<p>Poor boy kings! Edmund was murdered; Edwy died of a broken heart;
+Edward was stabbed and dragged to death at his horse&rsquo;s heels; and Ethelred
+lost his kingdom. Three of them were good and three were bad. Only one of
+them was happy.</p>
+
+<p>Edmund, eighteen years of age, reigned from 940 to 946; Edred, 946 to
+955; Edwy, fifteen years of age, 955 to 958; Edgar, fifteen years of age, 958
+to 975; Edward, thirteen years of age, 975 to 979; Ethelred, ten years of age,
+979 to 1016.</p>
+
+<p>So the boy kings reigned in all seventy-six years, and governed England in
+their youth for nearly fifty years.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;I like your story, Master Toby,&rdquo; said Master Lewis; &ldquo;as a story,
+I mean. The historic facts are mainly as you have given them, but
+I think St. Dunstan&rsquo;s intentions may have been good, after all. He
+lived in an age of superstition, when it was believed that any political
+act was right that would increase the power of the church. Christianity
+then was not what it had been in the early church nor what it
+is to-day. Men must be somewhat regarded in the light of the times
+in which they lived.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The literary exercises for the evening were thus closed.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>GERMAN STORIES.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Story of the Emperor William.&mdash;The Story of &ldquo;Sneeze with Delight.&rdquo;&mdash;Poem-Stories.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapa"><span class="dropcap">A</span></span>T the first meeting of the Club to study the history
+and to relate stories of the Rhine and the North,
+Master Lewis was present, and, after the preliminary
+business had been transacted, said that he
+had some suggestions in mind which he wished to
+make.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I notice,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that many of you have been obtaining from
+the Boston Public Library English translations of the works of Hauff,
+Hoffman, Baron de La Motte Fouqu&eacute;, Grimm, Schiller, and Tieck, and
+I think that there is danger that story-reading and story-telling may
+occupy too much of your time and thought. Let me propose that a
+brief history of each author be given with the story at the meetings
+of the Club, so that you may at least obtain some knowledge of German
+literature.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The suggestion met with the approval of all, and it was voted that
+at future meetings the biographies of authors should be given with
+the stories, and that only the stories of the best authors should be
+selected, except in the case of legends of places.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have another proposal to make,&rdquo; said Master Lewis. &ldquo;You are
+not very familiar with German politics. Suppose you let me give you
+from time to time some short talks about the German Government
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
+and its ministers,&mdash;King William, Count Bismarck, and Count Von
+Moltke.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This kind offer was received with cheers and placed upon record
+with thanks.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps you may be willing to open our exercises to-night with
+one of the talks you have planned,&rdquo; said the President. &ldquo;It would be
+a helpful beginning, which we would appreciate.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am not as well prepared as I would like,&rdquo; said the teacher; &ldquo;but
+as I believe in making a first meeting of this kind a sort of a model
+in its plan and purpose, I will in a free way tell you something of</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STORY OF THE EMPEROR WILLIAM.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The life of the Emperor of Germany has been full of thrilling and dramatic
+scenes.</p>
+
+<p>When he was a boy, Germany&mdash;the great Germany of Charlemagne&mdash;was
+divided into states, each having its own ruler. His father was Frederick William
+III., King of Prussia, and his mother was Louise, an excellent woman; his
+youth was passed amid the excitements of Napoleon&rsquo;s conquests. Russia and
+Prussia combined against Napoleon; Russia was placed at a disadvantage in
+two doubtful battles, when she deserted the Prussian cause, and made a treaty
+of peace.</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon then sent for the King of Prussia, to tell him what he would
+leave him.</p>
+
+<p>The lovely Queen Louise went with the unfortunate king to meet the
+French conqueror, hoping thereby to obtain more favorable terms. But Napoleon
+treated her with scorn, boasting that he was like &ldquo;waxed cloth to rain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He, however, offered the queen a rose, in a softer moment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said Louise, thinking of her kingdom, &ldquo;but with Magdeburg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is <em>I</em> who give, and <em>you</em> who take,&rdquo; answered Napoleon haughtily.</p>
+
+<p>Napoleon took away from Prussia all the lands on the Elbe and the Rhine,
+and, uniting these to other German states, formed a kingdom for his brother
+Jerome.</p>
+
+<p>The good Queen Louise pined away with grief and shame at her country&rsquo;s
+losses, and died two years after of a broken heart. So the boyhood of William
+was very sad.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
+It is said that children fulfil the ideals of their mothers. Poor Louise little
+thought that her second son would one day be crowned Emperor of all Germany
+in the palace of the French kings at Versailles.</p>
+
+<p>William was born in 1797; he ascended the throne as King of Prussia in
+1861. How widely these dates stand apart!</p>
+
+<p>On the day of his coronation as King of Prussia, he exhibited his own character
+and religious faith by putting the crown on his own head. &ldquo;I rule,&rdquo; he
+said, &ldquo;by the favor of God and no one else.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Under his vigorous rule Prussia grew in military power, and excited the
+jealousy of the French people. Napoleon III., on a slight pretext, declared war
+with Prussia. In this war Prussia was victorious.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">A MEMORABLE HOUR.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>That was indeed a memorable hour in the emperor&rsquo;s life when he met the
+fallen Emperor of the French in the Chateau Bellevue, on a hill of the Meuse
+overlooking Sedan. The king and the emperor had met before; they then were
+equals, brother rulers of two of the most powerful nations on earth. They met
+now as conqueror and captive, and the one held the fate of the other in his
+hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were both moved at seeing each other again under such circumstances,&rdquo;
+said King William. &ldquo;I had seen Napoleon only three years before, at the
+summit of his power. What my feelings were is more than I can describe.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The king spoke first.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God has given victory to me in the war that has been declared against
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The war,&rdquo; said Napoleon, &ldquo;was not sought by me. I did not desire it.
+I declared it in obedience to the public sentiment of France.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your Majesty,&rdquo; said the king, &ldquo;made the war to meet public opinion; but
+your ministers created that public opinion.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your artillery, sire, won the battle. The Prussian artillery is the finest in
+the world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Has your Majesty any conditions to propose?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;None: I have no power; I am a prisoner.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where is the government in France with which I can treat?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In Paris: the empress and the ministers. I am powerless.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>King William, as you know, marched to Paris, and at last made conditions
+of peace almost as hard as Napoleon I. had made with his father. The German
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
+princes in his hour of victory offered him the crown of Southern Germany, and
+he was crowned at Versailles, in the great hall of mirrors, Emperor of Germany.</p>
+
+<p>Let me now speak of the kaiser&rsquo;s</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">MILITARY CAREER.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>It is rare that men and women live to celebrate their seventy-fifth birthday.
+The age allotted to mortals by the Psalmist is threescore and ten.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_emperor_william_and_napoleon_iii" id="the_emperor_william_and_napoleon_iii"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl020.jpg" width="500" height="395" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE EMPEROR WILLIAM AND NAPOLEON III.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>But the hale old Emperor of Germany has not only recently commemorated
+the completion of his eighty-sixth year, but&mdash;what is still more striking&mdash;at the
+same time marked the seventy-sixth year of his service as an officer in the Prussian
+army.</p>
+
+<p>It is related that, on the 22d of March, 1807, on which day William was just
+ten years old, his father, then King of Prussia, called him into his study and
+said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+&ldquo;My son, I appoint you an officer in my army. You will serve in Company
+No. 1 of the First Guard Regiment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The little prince drew himself up, gave his father a prompt military salute,
+and retired. An hour later he reappeared before the king, attired in the uniform
+of his new rank; and, repeating the salute, announced to his
+royal father that &ldquo;he
+was ready for duty.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="william_before_his_father" id="william_before_his_father"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl021.jpg" width="500" height="356" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">WILLIAM BEFORE HIS FATHER.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Even at so early
+an age, William was
+no fancy soldier,
+holding rank and
+title, and leaving to
+humbler officers the duties and hardships. He
+at once devoted himself to the task of a junior
+ensign; and from that time onward became an officer in truth, laboring zealously
+to master the military science, and rising step by step, not by favor, but
+by merit and seniority.</p>
+
+<p>At the age of eighteen, William was in Blucher&rsquo;s army at Waterloo, taking
+an active part in the overthrow of Napoleon, and witnessing that mighty downfall.
+A little later, he was promoted to the rank of major for cool courage under
+heavy fire; and from that time on, for nearly half a century, William devoted
+himself wholly to the military profession.</p>
+
+<p>When he ascended the Prussian throne, there was no more unpopular man
+in the kingdom. He had put down the revolutionary rising in Berlin with grim
+and relentless hand; and the people believed that their new monarch was a
+cruel and haughty tyrant.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until after the great triumph over Austria, in 1866, that the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+Prussians began to discover that King William was not only a valiant soldier, but an
+ardent lover of his country, and a kind-hearted, whole-souled father of his
+people.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STATESMAN.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>For the last sixteen years, no sovereign in Europe has been more devotedly
+beloved and revered by his subjects. Although William is autocratic, and believes
+in his &ldquo;divine right&rdquo; to rule as sturdily as did his medi&aelig;val ancestors,
+and has not a little contempt for popular clamors and popular rights, his reign
+has been on the whole brilliantly wise and successful. While this has been in a
+great measure due to the presence of a group of great men around him,&mdash;notably
+of Bismarck and Von Moltke,&mdash;the emperor himself has had no small share
+in promoting the power and towering fortunes of Germany.</p>
+
+<p>His paternal ways with his people, his military knowledge, his fine, frank,
+hearty, chivalrous nature, his sound sense in the choice of his advisers, and his
+perception of the wisdom
+of their counsels,
+have much aided
+in raising Prussia
+and Germany to their
+present height in
+Europe.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 400px;">
+<a name="king_williams_helmet" id="king_williams_helmet"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl022.jpg" width="400" height="225"
+alt="An old helmet sits on various papers on a desk" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">KING WILLIAM&rsquo;S HELMET.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Beneath his commanding
+and rugged
+exterior there beats
+a very kindly heart.
+Many incidents have
+been related to show
+the simple good-nature of his character. In his study, on the table at which he
+writes, there has long remained a rusty old cavalry helmet, the relic of some
+military association of the emperor.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever the death-warrant of a condemned criminal is brought to him to
+sign, the emperor looks at it, and then slyly slips the fatal document under the
+helmet. Sometimes his ministers, anxious that the warrants should be signed,
+take occasion, in his absence from the study, to pull the papers out from beneath
+the helmet, just enough to catch their master&rsquo;s eye.</p>
+
+<p>Most often, however William, on perceiving them, quietly pushes them back
+again, without a word. So great is his repugnance to dooming even a hardened
+criminal to death, by a mere scratch of his pen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+At eighty-six, the stalwart old kaiser cannot hope to dwell much longer
+among his people; but it will be very long before his fine qualities, soldierly
+courage, and affectionate nature will grow dim in the memory of the fatherland.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The stories related at this meeting were largely from Grimm and
+Fouqu&eacute;, and are to be found in American books.</p>
+
+<p>The most pleasing of the stories, told by Herman Reed, is not so
+well known, and we give it here.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">SNEEZE WITH DELIGHT.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Many, many years ago there lived in an old German town a good cobbler
+and his wife. They had one child, Jamie, a handsome boy of some eight years.
+They were poor people; and the good wife, to help her husband, had a stall in
+the great market, where she sold fruit and herbs.</p>
+
+<p>One day the cobbler&rsquo;s wife was at the market as usual, and her little boy was
+with her, when a strange old woman entered the stalls.</p>
+
+<p>The woman hardly seemed human. She had red eyes, a wizened, pinched-up
+face, and her nose was sharp and hooked, and almost reached to her chin. Her
+dress was made up of rags and tatters. Never before had there entered the market
+such a repulsive-looking person.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Are you Hannah the herb-woman?&rdquo; she asked, bobbing her head to and
+fro. &ldquo;Eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me see, let me see; you may have some herbs I want.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She thrust her skinny hands into the herbs, took them up and smelled of
+them, crushing them as she did so.</p>
+
+<p>Having mauled them to her heart&rsquo;s content, she shook her head, saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bad stuff; rubbish; nothing I want; rubbish, rubbish,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are an impudent old hag,&rdquo; said the cobbler&rsquo;s boy, Jamie; &ldquo;you have
+crushed our herbs, held them under your ugly nose, and now condemn them.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Aha, my son, you do not like my nose,&mdash;eh? You shall have one, too, to
+pay for this,&mdash;eh?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you want to buy anything, pray do so at once,&rdquo; said the cobbler&rsquo;s wife;
+&ldquo;you are keeping other customers away.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <em>will</em> buy something,&rdquo; said the hag viciously; &ldquo;I <em>will</em> buy. I will take
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
+these six cabbages. Six? That is more than I can carry, as I have to lean
+upon my stick. You must let your boy take them home for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This was but a reasonable request, and the cobbler&rsquo;s wife consented.</p>
+
+<p>Jamie did as he was bid, and followed the hag to her home. It was a long
+distance there. At last the beldam stopped in an out-of-the-way part of the
+town, before a strange-looking house. She touched a rusty key to the door,
+which flew open, and, as
+the two entered, a most
+astonishing sight was revealed
+to Jamie&rsquo;s eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The interior of the
+house was like a throne-room
+in a palace, the ceilings
+were of marble and
+gold, and the furniture
+was jewelled ebony.</p>
+
+<p>The old woman took a
+silver whistle and blew it.
+Little animals&mdash;guinea
+pigs and squirrels&mdash;answered
+the call. They
+were dressed like children,
+and walked on two legs;
+they could talk and understand
+what was said to
+them. Was the beldam
+an enchantress, and were
+these little animals children,
+whom she had stolen
+and made victims of her
+enchantments?</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 321px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="jamie_at_the_strange_looking_house" id="jamie_at_the_strange_looking_house"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl023.jpg" width="321" height="400"
+alt="Jamie at the strange-looking house" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;Sit down, child,&rdquo; said the old woman, in a soft voice, &ldquo;sit down; you have
+had a heavy load to carry. Sit down, and I will make you a delicious soup; one
+that you will remember as long as you live. It will contain some of the herb for
+which I was looking in the market and did not find. Sit down.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The beldam hurried hither and thither, and with the help of the guinea
+pigs and squirrels quickly made the soup.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There, my child, eat that. It contains the magic herb I could not find in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
+the market. Why did your mother not have it? Whoever eats that will become
+a magic cook.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jamie had never tasted such delicious soup. It seemed to intoxicate him.
+It produced a stupor. He felt a great change coming over him. He seemed to
+become one of the family of guinea pigs and squirrels, and, like them, to serve
+their mistress. Delightful little people they were,&mdash;he came to regard them as
+brothers; and time flew by.</p>
+
+<p>Years flew by, and other years, when one day the dame took her crutch and
+went out. She left her herb-room open, and he went in. In one of the secret
+cupboards he discovered an herb that had the same scent as the soup he had
+eaten years before. He examined it. The leaves were blue and the blossoms
+crimson. He smelt of it.</p>
+
+<p>He began to sneeze,&mdash;such a delightful sneeze! He smelt, and sneezed
+again. Suddenly he seemed to awake, as from a dream,&mdash;as though some
+strange enchantment had been broken.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must go home,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;How mother will laugh when I tell her my
+dream! I ought not to have gone to sleep in a strange house.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He went out into the street. The children and idlers began to follow him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oho, oho! look, what a strange dwarf! Look at his nose! Never the
+like was seen before.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jamie tried to discover the dwarf, but could not see him.</p>
+
+<p>He reached the market. His mother was there, a sad old woman, in the
+same place. She seemed altered; looked many years older than when he left
+her. She leaned her head wearily on her hand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is the matter, mother dear?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>She started up.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What do you want of me, you poor dwarf? Do not mock me. I have had
+sorrow, and cannot endure jokes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, mother, what has happened?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He rushed towards her to embrace her, but she leaped into the air.</p>
+
+<p>The market-women came to her and drove him away.</p>
+
+<p>He went to his father&rsquo;s cobbler&rsquo;s shop. His father was there, but he looked
+like an old man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good gracious! what is that?&rdquo; said he wildly, as Jamie appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How are you getting on, master?&rdquo; asked Jamie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Poorly enough. I&rsquo;m getting old, and have no one to help me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Have you no son?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I <em>had</em> one, years ago.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="mountain_scene_in_germany" id="mountain_scene_in_germany"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl024.jpg" width="600" height="437" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MOUNTAIN SCENE IN GERMANY.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;Where is he now?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Heaven only knows. He was kidnapped one market-day, seven years ago.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Seven years ago!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Jamie turned away. The people on the street stared at him, and the ill-bred
+children followed him. He chanced to pass a barber&rsquo;s shop, where was a looking-glass
+in the window. He stopped and saw himself.</p>
+
+<p>The sight filled him with terror. He was a dwarf, <em>with a nose like that of
+the strange old woman</em>.</p>
+
+<p>What should he do?</p>
+
+<p>He remembered that the old woman had said that the eating of the magic
+soup that contained the magic herb
+would make him a magic cook.</p>
+
+<p>He went to the palace of the
+duke and inquired for the major
+domo. He was kindly received, as
+dwarfs are in such places, and he
+asked to be employed in the kitchen,
+and allowed to show his skill in preparing
+some of the rare dishes for the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>No one in the ducal palace was
+able to produce such food as he.
+He was made chief cook in a little
+time, and enjoyed the duke&rsquo;s favor
+for two years. He grew fat, was
+honored at the great feasts, and became
+the wonder of the town.</p>
+
+<p>Now happened the strangest
+thing of his strange life.</p>
+
+<p>(Ye that have eyes, prepare to
+open them now.)</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 309px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="jamie_rushing_towards_his_mother" id="jamie_rushing_towards_his_mother"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl025.jpg" width="309" height="400"
+alt="Jamie rushing towards his mother" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>One morning he went to the goose market to buy some nice fat geese, such
+as he knew the duke would relish. He purchased a cage of three geese, but he
+noticed that one of the geese did not quack and gabble like the others.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The poor thing must be sick,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;I will make haste to kill her.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To his great astonishment, the goose made answer:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Stop my breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I will cause your early death.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>
+Then he knew that the goose was some enchanted being, and he resolved to
+spare her life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have not always had feathers on you, as now?&rdquo; said the dwarf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; I am Mimi, daughter of Waterbrook the Great.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Prithee be calm; I will be your friend; I know how to pity you. I was
+once a squirrel myself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now the duke made a great feast, and invited the prince. The prince was
+highly pleased with the ducal dishes, and praised the cook.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But there is one dish that you have not provided,&rdquo; said the prince.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is that?&rdquo; asked the duke.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<i>P&acirc;t&eacute; Suzerain.</i>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The duke ordered the dwarf to make the rare dish for the next banquet.</p>
+
+<p>The dwarf obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>When the prince had tasted, he pushed it aside, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is one thing lacking,&mdash;one peculiar herb. It is not like that which
+is provided for my own table.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The duke, in a towering passion, sent for the dwarf.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you do not prepare this dish rightly for the next banquet,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;you
+shall lose your head.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Now the dwarf was in great distress, and he went to consult with the goose.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know what is wanting,&rdquo; said the goose; &ldquo;it is an herb called Sneeze with
+Delight. I will help you find it.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 233px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="the_dwarf_and_the_goose" id="the_dwarf_and_the_goose"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl026.jpg" width="233" height="250"
+alt="The dwarf and the goose" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The dwarf took the goose under his arm, and asked of the guard, who had
+been placed over him until he should prepare the dish,
+permission to go into the garden.</p>
+
+<p>They were allowed to go. They searched in vain
+for a long time; but at last the goose spied the magic
+leaf across the lake, and swam across, and returned
+with it in her bill.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis the magic herb the old woman used in the
+soup,&rdquo; said the dwarf. &ldquo;Thank the Fates! we may
+now be delivered from our enchantment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He took a long, deep sniff of the herb. He then
+sneezed with delight, and lo! he began to grow, and his nose began to shrink,
+and he was transformed to the handsomest young man in all the land.</p>
+
+<p>He took the goose under his arm, and walked out of the palace yard. He
+carried her to a great magician, who delivered her from her enchantment,
+and she sneezed three sneezes, and became the handsomest lady in all the
+kingdom.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+Now, Mimi&rsquo;s father was very rich, and he loaded Jamie with presents, which
+were worth a great fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Then handsome Jamie married the lovely Mimi; and he brought his old
+father and mother to live with them in a palace, and they were all exceedingly
+happy.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;What is the moral of such a tale as that?&rdquo; asked one of the
+Club.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you have any crookedness, to find the magic herb,&rdquo; said
+Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie Leland, the President, closed the exercises with some
+translations of his own, which he called &ldquo;Stories in Verse.&rdquo; We give
+two of them here; each relates an incident of Eberhard, the good
+count, whom German poets have often remembered in song.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE RICHEST PRINCE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In a stately hall in the city of Worms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A festive table was laid;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lamps a softened radiance shed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And sweet the music played.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then the Saxon prince, and Bavaria&rsquo;s lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the Palsgrave of the Rhine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And W&uuml;rtemberg&rsquo;s monarch, Eberhard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came into that hall to dine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Said the Saxon prince, with pride elate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;My lords, I have wealth untold:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There are gems in my mountain gorges great;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In my valleys are mines of gold.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Thou hast boasted well,&rdquo; said Bavaria&rsquo;s lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;But mine is a nobler land:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have famous cities, and castled towns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And convents old and grand.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And better still is my own fair land,&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Said the Palsgrave of the Rhine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;There are sunny vineyards upon the hills;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the valleys are presses of wine.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Then bearded Eberhard gently said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;My lords, I have neither gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor famous cities, nor castled towns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Nor convents grand and old.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I have no vineyards upon the hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the valleys no presses of wine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But God has given a treasure to me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As noble as any of thine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px">
+<a name="eberhard" id="eberhard"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl027.jpg" width="500" height="315"
+alt="Eberhard asleep under a tree, his head pillowed on the lap of another man" /><br />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">EBERHARD.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I wind my horn on the rocky steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the heart of the greenwood free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I safely lay me down and sleep<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On any subject&rsquo;s knee.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, then the princes were touched at heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And they said, in that stately hall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Thou art richer than we, Count Eberhard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thy treasure is greater than all.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">EQUALITY.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The banners waved, the bugles rung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The fight was hot and hard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the walls of Doffingen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fast fell the ranks of Suabian men<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Led on by Eberhard.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Count Ulric was a valiant youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The son of Eberhard;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The banners waved, the bugles rung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His spearmen on the foe he flung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And pressed them sore and hard.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ulric is slain!&rdquo; the nobles cried,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The bugles ceased to blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon the monarch&rsquo;s order ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;My son is as another man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Press boldly on the foe!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And fiercer now the fight began,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And harder fell each blow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still the monarch&rsquo;s order ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;My son is as another man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Press, press upon the foe!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh, many fell at Doffingen<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Before the day was done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But victory blessed the Suabian men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happy bugles played again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At setting of the sun.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SECOND MEETING OF THE CLUB.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Constance.&mdash;The Story of Huss.&mdash;Bismarck and the German Government.&mdash;The
+Story of the Heart of Stone.&mdash;Poem.&mdash;Seven Nights on the Rhine:
+Night First.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapt"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>HE second meeting of the Club was opened by Mr.
+Beal with an account of Constance, and of the great
+Council that convened there in 1414.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;<em>Via Mala!</em> So the old Romans called the
+road near the source of the Rhine. It passed over
+and through dark and awful chasms, that the river, as it came down
+from the Alps, had been tunnelling for thousands of years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Rhine is the gift of the Alps, as Egypt is the gift of the Nile.
+From its source amid the peaks of the clouds to its first great reservoir,
+the Lake of Constance, it passes through one of the wildest and
+most picturesque regions in the world. It is not strange that the
+Romans should have called their old Swiss road <i>Via Mala</i>.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lake Constance! How our heads bent and our feelings kindled
+and glowed when we beheld it! It is the most beautiful lake that
+Germany possesses. It is walled by snow-capped mountains, whose
+tops seem like islands in the blue lakes of the skies. Quaint towns
+are nestled among the groves of the shore; towers, with bells ringing
+soft and melodious in the still air. The water is like emerald. Afar,
+zigzagging sails flap mechanically in the almost pulseless air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is color everywhere, of all hues: high, rich tones of color;
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>
+low tones. Piles of gems on the mountains, gloomy shadows in the
+groves; a deep
+cerulean sky
+above, that the
+sunlight fills
+like a golden
+sea. At sunset
+the lake seems
+indeed like the
+vision that John
+saw,&mdash;&lsquo;a sea of
+glass, mingled
+with fire.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 322px;">
+<a name="bridge_in_the_via_mala" id="bridge_in_the_via_mala"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl028.jpg" width="322" height="500"
+alt="A bridge spans a steep-sided gorge" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BRIDGE IN THE VIA MALA.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The town
+of Constance,
+once a great city,
+is as old as the
+period of Constantine.
+When
+Charlemagne
+went to Rome
+to receive the
+imperial crown,
+he rested here.
+Here a long line
+of German
+kings left the
+associations of
+great festivities;
+here those kings
+passed their
+Christmases and Easters. Here convened brilliant regal assemblies.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
+Here the ambassadors from Milan appeared before Barbarossa, and
+delivered to him the golden key of the Italian states.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But these events are of comparatively small importance in comparison
+with the so-called Holy Council of Constance, in 1414. It was
+a time of spiritual dearth in the world. Arrogance governed the Church,
+and immorality flourished in it. There were three popes, each at
+war with the others,&mdash;John XXIII., Benedict XII., and Gregory XII.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Council was called to choose a pope, and to reform the Church.
+The town for four years became the centre of European history.
+Hither came kings and princes; the court of the world was here.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The town filled, and filled. It was like a great fair. Delegates
+came from the North and the South, the East and the West. There
+were splendid f&ecirc;tes; luxury and vainglory. At one time there were
+present a hundred thousand men.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Council accomplished nothing by way of reform, except to
+induce the three rival popes to relinquish their claims to a fourth; but
+it stained its outward glory with a crime that will never be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When we were in Florence,&mdash;beautiful Florence!&mdash;the tragedy
+of Savonarola rose before us like a spectre in the history of the past.
+Savonarola tried to reform the conduct of the clergy and to maintain
+the purity of the Church, but failed. He made the republic of Florence
+a model Christian commonwealth. Debauchery was suppressed,
+gambling was prohibited, the licentious factions of the times were there
+publicly destroyed. He arraigned Rome for her sins. The Roman
+party turned against him and accused him of heresy, the punishment
+of which was death. He declared his innocence, and desired to test it
+with his accusers by walking through a field of living fire. He believed
+God would protect him from the flames, like the worthies of old. His
+enemies were unwilling to go with him into the fiery ordeal. He was
+condemned and executed. The martyr of Florence in after years
+became one of its saints.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At Constance a like tragedy haunted us. Constance has been
+called &lsquo;the city of Huss.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Among the mighty ones who wended their way to the city of the
+lake, to attend the great Council, was a pale, thin man, in mean attire.
+He had been invited
+to the Council by the
+Emperor Sigismund,
+who promised to protect
+his person and his
+life. He was a Bohemian
+reformer; a follower
+of Wycliffe. He
+was graciously received,
+but was soon
+after thrown into
+prison on the charge
+of heresy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They led him in
+chains before the
+Council, which assembled
+in an old hall,
+which is still shown.
+The emperor sat upon
+the throne as president.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He confessed to
+having read and disseminated
+the writings of Wycliffe.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 302px;">
+<a name="john_huss" id="john_huss"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl029.jpg" width="302" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">JOHN HUSS.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was required to denounce the English reformer as one of the
+souls of the lost.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;If he be lost, then I could wish my soul were with his,&rsquo; he said
+firmly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This was pronounced to be heresy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The emperor declared that he was not obliged to keep his word to
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+heretics, and that his promise to protect the life of the Bohemian was
+no longer binding.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was condemned to death. He was stripped of his priestly
+robes, and the cup of the sacrament was taken from his hands with a
+curse.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I trust I shall drink of it this day in the kingdom of heaven,&rsquo; he said.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We devote thy soul to the devils in hell,&rsquo; was the answer of the
+prelates.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He was led away, guarded by eight hundred horsemen, to a meadow
+without the gates. Here he was burned alive, and triumphed in soul
+amid the flames.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Such was the end of John Huss, the Savonarola of Constance.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We made an excursion upon the lake. The appearance of the old
+city from the water is one of the most beautiful that can meet the eye.
+It seems more like an artist&rsquo;s dream than a reality,&mdash;floating towers
+in a crystal atmosphere.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;Girt round with rugged mountains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The fair Lake Constance lies.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The lake is walled with mountains, and wears a chain of castle-like
+towns, like a necklace.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It would be delightful to spend a summer there. Excursions on
+the steamers can be made at almost any time of the day. One can
+visit in this way five different old countries,&mdash;Baden, W&uuml;rtemberg,
+Bavaria, Austria, and Switzerland.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal&rsquo;s succinct account of the old city led to a discussion of the
+gains of civilization from martyrdoms for principle and progress. He
+was followed by Master Lewis, who gave the Class some account of</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">BISMARCK AND THE GERMAN GOVERNMENT.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>In the eyes of the multitude, Bismarck is a great but unscrupulous statesman,
+intent upon uniting Germany and making it the leading nation of Europe.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
+As a man, he seems hard-headed, self-willed, and iron-handed. As a ruler, he
+is looked upon as the incarnation of the despotic spirit,&mdash;a believer in force,
+an infidel as to moral suasion.</p>
+
+<p>Many persons who sympathize with his policy censure the means by which
+he executes it. They do not consider that so long as that policy is threatened
+from within and without, the Chancellor must trust in force; nor do they read
+the lesson of the centuries,&mdash;<em>Force</em> must rule until <em>Right</em> reigns.</p>
+
+<p>The fact is not apprehended by the unthinking multitude, that the work of
+grafting a statesman&rsquo;s policy into the life of a nation requires, like grafting a
+fruit-tree, excision, incision, pressure, and time.</p>
+
+<p>But it is not of Bismarck&rsquo;s policy I would first speak, but of that which few
+credit him with possessing,&mdash;his moral convictions. Strange as it may seem to
+those who know only
+the Chancellor, Bismarck
+is not only a
+religious man, but
+his religion is the
+foundation of his
+policy.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Busch, one
+of the statesman&rsquo;s
+secretaries, in a recent
+book, &ldquo;Bismarck
+in the Franco-German
+War,&rdquo; narrates
+incidents and
+reports private conversations
+which justify
+this assertion.</p>
+
+<p>On the eve of his
+leaving Berlin to join
+the army, the Chancellor
+partook of the
+Lord&rsquo;s Supper. The
+solemn rite was celebrated
+in his own room, that it might not appear as an exhibition of official
+piety.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 400px;">
+<a name="bismarck" id="bismarck"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl030.jpg" width="400" height="388" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BISMARCK.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>One morning Bismarck was called suddenly from his bed to see a French
+general. Dr. Busch, on entering the bedroom just after the chief had left it,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
+found everything in disorder. On the floor was a book of devotion, &ldquo;Daily
+Watchwords and Texts of the Moravian Brethren for 1870.&rdquo; On the table by
+the bed was another, &ldquo;Daily Refreshment for Believing Christians.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Chancellor reads in them every night,&rdquo; said Bismarck&rsquo;s valet to Dr.
+Busch, seeing his surprise.</p>
+
+<p>One day, while dining with his staff, several of whom were &ldquo;free-thinkers,&rdquo;
+Bismarck turned the conversation into a serious vein. A secretary had spoken
+of the feeling of duty which pervaded the German army, from the private to the
+general.</p>
+
+<p>Bismarck caught the idea and tossed it still higher. &ldquo;The feeling of duty,&rdquo;
+he said, &ldquo;in a man who submits to be shot dead on his post, alone, in the dark,
+is due to what is left of belief in our people. He knows that there is Some One
+who sees him when the lieutenant does not see him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Do you believe, Your Excellency,&rdquo; asked a secretary, &ldquo;that they really reflect
+on this?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Reflect? no: it is a feeling, a tone, an instinct. If they reflect they lose
+it. Then they talk themselves out of it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How,&rdquo; Bismarck continued, &ldquo;without faith in a revealed religion, in a God
+who wills what is good, in a Supreme Judge, and in a future life, men can live
+together harmoniously, each doing his duty and letting every one else do his, I
+do not understand.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause in the conversation, and the Chancellor then gave expression
+to his faith.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If I were no longer a Christian,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;I would not remain for an hour
+at my post. If I could not count upon my God, assuredly I should not do so on
+earthly masters.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why should I,&rdquo; he continued, &ldquo;disturb myself and work unceasingly in this
+world, exposing myself to all sorts of vexations, if I had not the feeling that I
+must do my duty for God&rsquo;s sake? If I did not believe in a Divine order, which
+has destined this German nation for something good and great, I would at once
+give up the business of a diplomatist. Orders and titles have no charm for me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was another pause, for the staff were silent before this revelation of
+their chief&rsquo;s inner life. He continued to lay bare the foundations of his statesmanship.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I owe the firmness which I have shown for ten years against all possible
+absurdities only to my decided faith. Take from me this faith, and you take
+from me my fatherland. If I were not a believing Christian, if I had not the
+supernatural basis of religion, you would not have had such a Chancellor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I delight in country life, in the woods, and in nature,&rdquo; he said, in the course
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
+of the conversation. &ldquo;Take from me my relation to God, and I am the man who
+will pack up to-morrow and be off to Varzin [his farm] to grow my oats.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The surprise with which these revelations of a statesman&rsquo;s inner life are
+read is due to their singularity. Neither history nor biography is so full of
+instances of statesmen confessing their faith in God and in Christianity, at a
+dinner-table surrounded by &ldquo;free-thinkers,&rdquo; as to prevent the reading of these
+revelations from being both interesting and stimulating.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I live among heathen,&rdquo; said the Chancellor, as he concluded this acknowledgment
+that his religion was the basis of his statesmanship. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t seek to
+make proselytes, but I am obliged to confess my faith.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Prince von Bismarck was born in 1813. His political history is similar to
+Emperor William&rsquo;s, which I related at our last meeting. The Emperor and his
+Chancellor, in matters of state, have been as one man. Each has aimed to secure
+the unity of the German empire. Each has sought to disarm, on the one hand,
+that branch of the Catholic party who give their allegiance to Rome rather than
+the government, the so-called Ultramontanes; and the Socialists, on the other
+hand, who would overthrow the monarchy. The two strong men have ruled
+with a firm hand, but with much wisdom. Germany could hardly have a more
+liberal government, unless she became a republic.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The stories of the evening were chiefly selected from Hoffman.
+They were too long and terrible to be given here. Among them were
+&ldquo;The Painter&rdquo; and &ldquo;The Elementary Spirit.&rdquo; In introducing these
+stories, Mr. Beal related some touching and strange incidents of their
+author.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">HOFFMAN.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Hoffman died in Berlin. His career as a musical artist had been associated
+with the Prussian-Polish provinces, where he seems to have acquired habits of
+dissipation in brilliant but gay musical society.</p>
+
+<p>Hoffman had exquisite refinement of taste, and sensitiveness to the beautiful
+in nature and art, but the exhilaration of the wine-cup was to him a fatal knowledge.
+It made him in the end a poor, despised, inferior man.</p>
+
+<p>As he lost his self-mastery, he also seemed to lose his self-respect. He
+mingled with the depraved, and carried the consciousness of his inferiority into
+all his associations with better society.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I once saw Hoffman,&rdquo; says one, &ldquo;in one of his night carouses. He was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
+sitting in his glory at the head of the table, not stupidly drunk, but warmed with
+wine, which made him madly eloquent. There, in full tide of witty discourse, or,
+if silent, his hawk eye flashing beneath his matted hair, sat this unfortunate
+genius until the day began to dawn; then he found his way homeward.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At such hours he used to write his wild, fantastic tales. To his excited
+fancy everything around him had a spectral look. The shadows of fevered
+thought stalked like ghosts through his soul.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>This stimulated life came to a speedy conclusion. He was struck with a
+most strange paralysis at the age of forty-six.</p>
+
+<p>His disease first paralyzed his hands and feet, then his arms and legs, then
+his whole body, except his brain and vital organs.</p>
+
+<p>In this condition it was remarked in his presence that death was not the
+worst of evils. He stared wildly and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Life, life, only life,&mdash;on any condition whatsoever!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His whole hope was centred in the gay world which had already become to
+him as a picture of the past.</p>
+
+<p>But the hour came at last when he knew he must die. He asked his wife to
+fold his useless hands on his breast, and, looking at her pitifully, he said, &ldquo;And
+we must think of God also.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Religion, in his gay years, as a provincial musician, and as a poet in the
+thoughtless society of the capital, had seldom occupied his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>His last thought was given to the subject which should have claimed the
+earliest and best efforts of his life.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;God also!&rdquo; It was his farewell to the world. The demons had done their
+work. Life&rsquo;s opportunities were ended.</p>
+
+<p>The words of his afterthought echo after him, and, like his own weird stories,
+have their lesson.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Herman Reed presented a story from a more careful writer. It
+is a story with an aim, and left an impressive lesson on the minds of
+all. If it be somewhat of an allegory, it is one whose meaning it is
+not hard to comprehend.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE HEART OF STONE.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The Black Forest, from time out of mind, has abounded with stories of phantoms,
+demons, genii, and fairies. The dark hue of the hills, the shadowy and
+mysterious recesses, the lonely ways, the beautiful glens, all tend to suggest the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
+legends that are associated with every mountain, valley, and town. The old
+legends have filled volumes. One of the most popular of recent stories of the
+Black Forest is the &ldquo;Marble Heart; or, the Stone-cold Heart,&rdquo; by Hauff.</p>
+
+<p>Wilhelm Hauff, a writer of wonderful precocity, genius, and invention, was
+born at Stuttgart in 1809. He was designed for the theological profession, and
+entered the University of T&uuml;bingen in 1820. He had a taste for popular legends,
+and published many allegorical works. He died before he had completed his
+twenty-sixth year.</p>
+
+<p>There once lived a widow in the Black Forest, whose name was Frau Barbara
+Munk. She had a boy, sixteen years old, named Peter, who was put to the
+trade of charcoal-burner, a common occupation in the Black Forest.</p>
+
+<p>Now a charcoal-burner has much time for reflection; and as Peter sat at his
+stack, with the dark trees around him, he began to cherish a longing to become
+rich and powerful.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A black, lonely charcoal-burner,&rdquo; he said to himself, &ldquo;leads a wretched
+life. How much more respected are the glass-blowers, the clock-makers, and
+the musicians!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The raftsmen of the forest, too, excited his envy. They passed like giants
+through the towns, with their silver buckles, consequential looks, and clay pipes,
+often a yard long. There were three of these timber-dealers that he particularly
+admired. One of them, called &ldquo;Fat Hesekiel,&rdquo; seemed like a mint of gold,
+so freely did he use his money at the gaming-tables at the tavern. The second,
+called &ldquo;Stout Schlurker,&rdquo; was both rich and dictatorial; and the third was a
+famous dancer.</p>
+
+<p>These traders were from Holland. Peter Munk, the young coal-burner,
+used to think of them and their good fortune, when sitting alone in the pine
+forests. The Black Foresters were people rich in generous character and right
+principle, but very poor in purse. Peter began to look upon them and their
+homely occupations with contempt.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This will do no longer,&rdquo; said Peter, one day. &ldquo;I must thrive or die. Oh,
+that I were as much regarded as rich Hesekiel or powerful Schlurker, or even
+as the King of the Dancers! I wonder where they obtain their money!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There were two Forest spirits, of whom Peter had heard, that were said
+to help those who sought them to riches and honor. One was Glassmanikin, a
+good little dwarf; and the other was Michael the Dutchman,&mdash;dark, dangerous,
+terrible, and powerful,&mdash;a giant ghost.</p>
+
+<p>Peter had heard that there was a magic verse, which, were he to repeat it
+alone in the forest, would cause the benevolent dwarf, Glassmanikin, to appear.
+Three of the lines were well known,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O treasure-guarder, &rsquo;mid the forests green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many, full many a century hast thou seen:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine are the lands where rise the dusky pine&mdash;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>He did not know the last line,
+and, as he was but a poor poet, he was
+unable to make a line to fill the sense,
+metre, and rhyme.</p>
+
+<p>He inquired of the Black Foresters about
+the missing line, but they only knew as much
+as he, else many of them would have called the fairy
+banker to their own service.</p>
+
+<p>One day, as he was alone in the forest, he resolved
+to repeat, over and over, the magic lines,
+hoping that the fourth line would in some way occur
+to him.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O treasure-guarder, &rsquo;mid the forests green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many, full many a century hast thou seen:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine are the regions of the dusky pine.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>As he said these words he saw, to his astonishment,
+a little fellow peep around the trunk of a tree;
+but, as the fourth line did not come to him, Mr. Glassmanikin
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Peter went home, with his mind full of visions.
+Oh, that he were a poet! He consulted
+the oldest wood-cutters, but none of them could
+supply the missing line.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after, Peter again went into the
+deep forest, his brain aching for a
+rhyme with <em>pine</em>. As he was hurrying
+along, a gigantic man, with
+a pole as big as a mast over his
+shoulder, appeared from behind
+the pine-trees. Peter was filled
+with terror, for he felt that it was
+none other than the giant-gnome,
+Michael the Dutchman.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 251px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="peter_in_the_forest" id="peter_in_the_forest"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl031.jpg" width="251" height="600"
+alt="Peter in the forest" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;Peter Munk, what doest thou
+here?&rdquo; he thundered.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I want to pass this road on business,&rdquo; said Peter, in increasing alarm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thou liest. Peter, you are a miserable wight, but I pity you. You want
+money. Accept my <em>conditions</em>, and I will help you. How many hundred thalers
+do you want?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thanks, sir; but I&rsquo;ll have no dealings with you: I am afraid of your <em>conditions</em>.
+I have heard of you already.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peter began to run.</p>
+
+<p>The giant strode after him; but there was a magic circle in the forest that
+he could not pass, and, as he was near it, Peter was able to escape.</p>
+
+<p>A great secret had been revealed to Peter, and he now thought he had the
+clew to the charm. The good dwarf, Glassmanikin, only helped people who
+were born on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>Possessed of this fact, Peter again ventured on into the deep forest. He
+found himself at last under a huge pine. He stopped there to rest, when suddenly
+a perfect line and rhyme occurred to him. He leaped into the air with
+joy, and exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O treasure-guarder, &rsquo;mid the forests green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many, full many a century hast thou seen:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine are the regions of the dusky pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And children born on Sabbath-days are thine.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>A little old manikin arose from the earth at the foot of the pine. He wore
+a black jerkin, red stockings, and a peaked hat. His face had a kindly expression,
+and he sat down and began to smoke a blue glass pipe.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Peter, Peter,&rdquo; said the fairy, &ldquo;I should be sorry to think that the love of
+idleness has brought you hither to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; I know that with idleness vice begins. But I would like a better
+trade. It is a low thing to be a charcoal-burner. I would like to become a
+glass-blower.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To every Sunday-child who seeks my aid, I grant three wishes. If, however,
+the last wish is a foolish one, I cannot grant it. Peter, Peter, what are
+your wishes? Let them be good and useful.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I wish to dance better than the King of Dancers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Secondly, I would always have as much money in my pocket as &lsquo;Fat
+Hesekiel.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh, you poor lad!&rdquo; said the gnome sadly. &ldquo;What despicable things to
+wish for! To dance well, and have money to gamble! What is your third
+wish?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I should like to own the finest glass factory in the forest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O stupid Charcoal Peter! you should have wished for wisdom. Wealth is
+useless without wisdom
+to use it. Here
+are two thousand
+guldens. Go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peter returned
+home. At the frolics
+at the inn, he
+surpassed the King
+of Dancers in dancing,
+and he was
+hailed with great
+admiration by the
+young. He began
+to gamble at the
+ale-houses, and was
+able to produce as
+much money as Fat
+Hesekiel himself.
+People wondered.
+He next ordered a
+glass factory to be
+built, and in a few
+months Peter Munk
+was rich and famous
+and envied. People
+said he had found a
+hidden treasure.</p>
+
+<p>But Peter did
+not know how to use
+his money. He
+spent it at the alehouse;
+and at last,
+when the money in
+the pockets of Fat Hesekiel, for some reason, was low, he was unable to pay
+his debts, and the bailiffs came to take him to prison.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 346px;">
+<a name="peter_and_the_manikin" id="peter_and_the_manikin"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl032.jpg" width="346" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PETER AND THE MANIKIN.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>In his troubles he resolved to go again into the deep forest, and seek the
+aid of the forest gnomes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
+&ldquo;If the good little gnome will not help me,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the big one will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>As he passed along, ashamed
+of his conduct in not having better
+deserved of the good fairy, he
+began to cry,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Michael the Dutchman! Michael
+the Dutchman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In a few moments the giant
+raftsman stood before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve come to me at last,&rdquo;
+he said. &ldquo;Go with me to my
+house, and I will show you how
+I can be of service to you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peter followed the giant to
+some steep rocks, and down into
+an abyss; there was the gnome&rsquo;s
+palace.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your difficulties come from
+<em>here</em>,&rdquo; said the gnome, placing his
+hands over the young man&rsquo;s heart.
+&ldquo;Let me have your heart, and you
+shall have riches.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Give you my heart?&rdquo; said
+Peter; &ldquo;I should die.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No; follow me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He led Peter into a great
+closet, where were jars filled with
+liquid. In them were the hearts
+of many who had become rich.
+Among them were the hearts of
+the King of the Dancers and of
+Fat Hesekiel.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The hinderance to wealth is
+feeling. I have taken, as you see,
+the hearts of these rich men. I
+have replaced them by hearts of
+stone. You see how <em>they</em> flourish.
+<em>You</em> may do the same.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 235px;">
+<a name="peter_surpassed_the_king_of_dancers" id="peter_surpassed_the_king_of_dancers"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl033.jpg" width="235" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PETER SURPASSED THE KING OF DANCERS.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;A heart of stone must feel very cold within,&rdquo; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
+&ldquo;But what is the use of a heart of feeling, with poverty? Give me your
+heart, and I will make you rich.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Agreed,&rdquo; said Peter.</p>
+
+<p>The giant gave him a drug, which caused stupor. When Peter awoke from
+the stupor his heart seemed
+cold. He put his hand on
+his breast: there was no
+motion. Then he knew
+that he had indeed a heart
+of stone.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing now brought
+him pleasure or delight.
+He loved nothing; pitied
+no one&rsquo;s misfortunes.
+Beauty was nothing. He
+cared not for relatives or
+friends; but he had
+money, money. The supply
+never failed.</p>
+
+<p>He travelled over the
+world, but everything
+seemed dead to him. Sentiment
+was dead within
+him. He lied, he cheated.
+He filled many homes with
+wretchedness and ruin.</p>
+
+<p>At last he became
+weary of life.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 323px;">
+<a name="peter_and_the_giant" id="peter_and_the_giant"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl034.jpg" width="323" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PETER AND THE GIANT.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;I would give all my
+riches,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;to feel once again love in my heart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He resolved to go into the woods and consult the good fairy.</p>
+
+<p>He came to the old pine-tree,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O treasure-guarder, &rsquo;mid the forests green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Many, full many a century thou hast seen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thine are the regions of the dusky pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And children born on Sabbath-days are thine.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Glassmanikin came up again, as before. He met Peter with an injured
+look.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
+&ldquo;What wouldst thou?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That thou shouldst give me a feeling heart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I cannot. I am not Michael the Dutchman.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I can live no longer with this stone heart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I pity you. Take this cross, and go to Michael. Get him to give you back
+your heart, under some pretext, and when he demands it again show him this
+cross, and he will be powerless to harm you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Peter took the cross and hurried into the deep forest. He called,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Michael the Dutchman! Michael the Dutchman!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The giant appeared.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What now, Peter Munk?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is feeling in my heart. Give me another. You have been deceiving
+me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come to my closet, and we will see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The gnome took out the stone heart, and replaced it for a moment by the
+old heart from the jar. It began to beat. Peter felt joy again. How happy
+he was! A heart, even with poverty, seemed the greatest of blessings. He
+would not exchange his heart again for the world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let me have it now,&rdquo; said the gnome.</p>
+
+<p>But Peter held out the cross. The gnome shrank away, faded, and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Peter put his hand on his breast. His heart was beating. He became
+a wise, thrifty, and prosperous man.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>NIGHT SECOND.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Seven Nights on the Rhine:&mdash;Basle.&mdash;Marshal Von Moltke.&mdash;The Story of
+the Enchanted Hen.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapo"><span class="dropcap">O</span></span>UR second night on the Rhine was passed at Basle.
+Leaving Lake Constance, the Rhine, full of vivid
+life, starts on its way to the sea. At the Rhinefall
+at Schaffhausen the water scenery becomes
+noble and exciting. A gigantic rock, over three
+hundred feet wide, impedes the course of the river,
+and over it the waters leap and eddy and foam, and then flow calmly
+on amid green woods, and near villages whose windows glitter in
+the sun.</p>
+
+<p>We rode through the so-called Forest towns. High beeches stood
+on each side of the river, and the waters here were as blue as the sky,
+and so clear we could see the gravelly bed.</p>
+
+<p>The river hastened to Basle. We hastened on like the river.
+Basle is the first town of importance on the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>Here we obtained a fine view of the Black Forest range of hills,
+and beheld the distant summits of the Jura and the Vosges.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 433px;">
+<a name="a_village_in_the_black_forest" id="a_village_in_the_black_forest"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl035.jpg" width="433" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A VILLAGE IN THE BLACK FOREST.</p>
+
+<p>Basle was a Roman fortified town in the days of the struggles of
+Rome with the Barbarians. It is gray with history,&mdash;with the battles
+of Church and State, battles of words, and battles of deeds and
+blood. But the sunlight was poured upon it, and the Rhine flowed
+quietly by, and the palaces of peace and prosperity rose on every hand,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+as though the passions of men had never been excited there, or the soil
+reddened with blood.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="peasants_house_in_the_black_forest" id="peasants_house_in_the_black_forest"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl036.jpg" width="500" height="411" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PEASANT&rsquo;S HOUSE IN THE BLACK FOREST.</p>
+
+<p>We took a principal street on our arrival, and followed the
+uncertain way. It led to the cathedral, on high ground. At the entrance
+to the grand old church stood the figures of St. George and St.
+Martin on prancing horses. The interior was high and lofty, with an
+imposing organ. Here we read on one of the tombs, &ldquo;Erasmus of
+Rotterdam.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The famous Black Forest is comprised within the lines of an
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
+isosceles triangle, which has Basle and Constance at each end of the line
+of base. The Rhine turns toward the north at Basle, and very nearly
+follows two lines of the figure. The forest covers an area of about
+twelve hundred square miles. It is a romantic seclusion, having Basle,
+Freiburg, and Baden-Baden for its cities of supply and exchange; full
+of pastoral richness, lonely grandeur; a land of fable and song.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Forest Railway is one of the great triumphs of engineering
+skill. It is ninety-three miles long, and has some forty tunnels.
+It takes the traveller from Baden at once into the primeval solitudes.
+Freiburg, a very quaint town, is situated in the forest.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Master Lewis spoke briefly to the Club of Von Moltke, the great
+Prussian general.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">MARSHAL VON MOLTKE.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Never was a nation more fortunate in its leaders than was Prussia when she
+aimed to achieve German unity. It is often the case that when some great
+crisis comes upon a country, men able to deal with it rise and become the guides
+of the people. This was never more true than it was of Prussia when, thirteen
+years ago, she entered upon the war with France which was to decide not only
+her own destiny, but that of the whole German people.</p>
+
+<p>Three Prussians towered, at that time, far above the rest,&mdash;William, the
+wise and energetic king; Bismarck, the resolute and far-seeing statesman; and
+Von Moltke, the skilful and consummate soldier. It was the united action of
+these three, as much as the valor of the Prussian army, which not only won the
+victory, but gathered and garnered its fruits.</p>
+
+<p>All three of these men are still living (1882-83), and still active, each in his
+own sphere. The hale old king, now emperor, shows, at the age of eighty-six,
+little lessening of his sturdy powers. Bismarck, at seventy, still sways
+with his strong and stubborn will the affairs of the youthful empire. Von
+Moltke, at eighty-two, remains the foremost military figure of Germany.</p>
+
+<p>Von Moltke is a very interesting personage. From his earliest youth he has
+followed the profession of arms. He has always been every inch a soldier.
+In the course of years, he became an absolute master of his art. He had military
+science at his fingers&rsquo; ends. In every emergency he knew just what to do.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 397px;">
+<a name="von_moltke" id="von_moltke"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl037.jpg" width="397" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">VON MOLTKE.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>To be sure, he has not been one of those brilliant and dashing military
+chiefs who, by their daring exploits and sudden triumphs, become heroes in the
+eyes of men. He has been a careful, studious, deliberate commander, losing
+sight of nothing, ready for every exigency, looking well ahead, and closely
+calculating upon every possibility of events.</p>
+
+<p>Yet the sturdy old soldier is by no means a dull man outside of his quarters
+or the barracks. In a quiet way, he enjoys life in many of its phases. He has
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
+always been a great reader on a great variety of subjects. He is known as one
+of the most delightful letter-writers in Germany. He is fond, too, of poetry, and
+reads history and fiction with much delight.</p>
+
+<p>There is a Roman simplicity about Von Moltke&rsquo;s daily life. He lives in a
+building which serves as the headquarters of the general staff of the army in
+Berlin. Promptly at seven o&rsquo;clock every morning, summer and winter, he enters
+his study, a plain room, with a table in the centre, covered with maps, papers,
+and books.</p>
+
+<p>There he takes his coffee, at the same time smoking a cigar. He proceeds
+at once to work, and keeps at it till nine, when his mail is brought to him. At
+eleven he takes a plain breakfast, after which he again works steadily till two,
+when he holds a reception of officers.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon is devoted to work. After dinner, for the first time, this man of
+eighty-two enjoys some rest and recreation until eleven, at which hour he retires.</p>
+
+<p>In personal appearance, Von Moltke is tall, thin, and slightly stooping. On
+horseback, however, he straightens up, and bears himself as erect as a man of
+thirty. His close-shaven face is much wrinkled, and his profile somewhat
+reminds one of that of Julius C&aelig;sar. He never appears in any other than a
+military dress; and is often seen walking alone in the Thiergarten at Berlin, his
+hands clasped behind him and his head bent forward, after the manner of the
+great Napoleon.</p>
+
+<p>Von Moltke married, some years ago, an English girl many years younger
+than himself. She died suddenly in 1868; and this event cast a shadow over
+all his later life. He has always since worn a sad and thoughtful face. He
+often visits his wife&rsquo;s grave in the country; and on the mausoleum which he
+erected to her memory, he has caused to be engraved the sentence, &ldquo;Love is the
+fulfilling of the law.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The rest of the evening was spent in rehearsing Black Forest tales,
+one of the most interesting of which we give here.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">SCRATCH GRAVEL; OR, THE ENCHANTED HEN.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Queer stories, as well as tragic ones, are related of the Black Forest; and one
+of the most popular legends of enchantment, the Hen Trench, is as absurd as it
+is amusing. Children like this story, for among German children the industrious
+and useful hen is something of a pet. Where, except in Germany, did there ever
+originate an heroic legend of a <em>hen</em>?</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
+The main line of the Baden railway runs southward towards Freiburg, amid
+some of the most picturesque mountain scenery of the Black Forest. The
+second station is B&uuml;hl,
+from which a delightful
+excursion may be
+made to Forbach and
+the Murg Valley.</p>
+
+<p>Here may be seen
+the extensive ruins of
+the old castle of Windeck,
+which was destroyed
+in the year
+1561, about which a
+very remarkable story
+is told.</p>
+
+<p>The old lords of
+Windeck were very
+quarrelsome people.
+They had feud after
+feud with the neighboring
+lords, and were
+continually at war with
+the Prince Bishops of
+Strasburg.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 316px;">
+<a name="fountain_at_schaffhausen" id="fountain_at_schaffhausen"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl038.jpg" width="316" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">FOUNTAIN AT SCHAFFHAUSEN.</p>
+
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Queer times were
+those, and queer relations
+existed between
+the Church and State.
+The Lord of Windeck
+was at one time kidnapped
+by the Bishop
+of Strasburg, and confined
+in a tower three
+years,&mdash;a thing that
+would not be regarded
+as a very clerical or
+spiritual proceeding to-day. A little later the Dean of Strasburg was surprised
+by the retainers of the Lord of Windeck, and was in turn carried a prisoner to
+the gray old castle of Windeck.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
+The captive dean had a niece, a lovely girl, who was deeply attached to him.
+When she heard of his captivity she was much grieved, and set herself to
+devising plans for his release.</p>
+
+<p>At the foot of the grim old castle, in the Black Forest, there lived an old
+woman. She was wiser than her neighbors, and was regarded as a witch. She
+was able to tell inquirers whatever they wished to know, and so was as useful
+as a newspaper, in her day and generation.</p>
+
+<p>She was the last of her family. She lived alone, and her only society was
+some pure white hens, so large that the biggest of modern Shanghai fowls must
+have been mere pygmies to them.</p>
+
+<p>The people of the region were very shy of the old woman and her strange
+hens. The timid never ventured past her door after dark, after her hens went
+to roost.</p>
+
+<p>She was surprised one winter evening by a rap at her door.</p>
+
+<p>She listened.</p>
+
+<p>Tap, tap, tap!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A fair young girl lifted the latch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am belated in the forest. Will you give me shelter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Come in and sit down. Whence did you come?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am on my way to the castle, but night has overtaken me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are very near it. If it were light, I could show you its towers. But
+what can a dove like you be seeking in that vulture&rsquo;s nest?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My dear uncle, the Dean of Strasburg, is a prisoner there.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I saw him when he was dragged into the castle, and very distressed and
+woe-begone the good man looked.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am going there to pray for his release.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Umph. At that castle they don&rsquo;t give something for nothing. What ransom
+can you offer?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Nothing. I hope by prayers and tears to move the count&rsquo;s heart.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am wiser than you in the world&rsquo;s ways,&mdash;let me advise you. Cry with
+those pretty eyes, plead with your sweet voice, but not to the old count.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To whom?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To his son.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will he influence his father?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Girl, I have taken a liking to you. You have a kind heart; I can see your
+disposition; I have met but few like you in the world. I will tell you what I
+will do. I will give you one of my white hens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A <em>hen</em>?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Yes. Go with the hen to the castle and inquire for Bernard, the count&rsquo;s
+son. Tell him that at daybreak the Count of Eberstein has planned an attack
+on the castle, and that you have come to warn him. Bid him fear nothing. Say
+that what he needs is a trench; and when he asks how one is to be made, tell
+him that you have brought him Scratch Gravel, the hen, who will immediately
+dig one for him.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_old_womans_directions" id="the_old_womans_directions"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl039.jpg" width="500" height="434" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE OLD WOMAN&rsquo;S DIRECTIONS.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;How will that rescue my uncle?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall see.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The maiden took the white hen, and went out into the night. The old
+woman pointed out to her the way to the castle.</p>
+
+<p>As she drew near the castle, she heard a great noise in the highway. The
+count&rsquo;s son was returning late from the chase. As he drew near her on horseback,
+he accosted her politely and asked her errand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
+The beautiful girl related the story the old woman had told her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will take you to my father.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She related her story to the count, and showed
+him the white hen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pooh! pooh!&rdquo; said the count.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I think her story is true,&rdquo; said the young man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I see truth written on her beautiful
+face.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is that so? I don&rsquo;t see it. Perhaps
+my eyes are not as good as they used to
+be. Well, well; let us see what the white
+hen will do.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>They took the hen outside the castle,
+and put her down. Presently the gravel
+began to fly. It was like a storm. The
+air was filled with earth and stones, and
+the old count was filled with astonishment.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The hen is bewitched,&rdquo; said the
+count.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Did I not tell you that the
+girl is honest?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And handsome?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And handsome.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Before daybreak the white
+hen had dug a deep trench
+around the castle. The trench
+is shown to travellers to-day,
+a very remarkable proof of the
+truth of the story, with only
+one missing link in the chain
+of evidence.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the enemy
+appeared, but when he
+came to the trench he forbore
+to storm the castle.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 283px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="the_hen_and_the_trench" id="the_hen_and_the_trench"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl040.jpg" width="283" height="600"
+alt="The hen and the trench" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The old count called the
+maiden into his presence.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
+&ldquo;What reward do you ask for so great a service?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That you call the Dean of Strasburg to give thanks in the chapel.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The count called the bishop, and attended the service. When it was over,
+he did not remand the good man to his cell.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have one request to make of you,&rdquo; said Bernard to the maid, as they left
+the church.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You promise to grant it?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That you make your home in the castle.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On one condition.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That the dean is released.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The young count went to his father.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The maiden has one request to make.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;She shall have her request.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So the dean was released and went back to Strasburg. The maid became
+the wife of the young count, but what became of the hen the chroniclers do not
+tell.</p>
+
+<p>But the trench remains,&mdash;the <i>Henne-Graben</i>,&mdash;and all that is wanting to
+make the evidence of the story sure is to connect the hen with the trench, after
+four hundred years. This may not be hard; geologists make connections in like
+cases after the lapse of a thousand years. Do they not?</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>EVENING THE THIRD.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Strasburg.&mdash;A Memorable Christmas.&mdash;The Story of the Lost Organist.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapo"><span class="dropcap">O</span></span>UR third night upon the Rhine was spent at Strasburg.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cathedral is the wonder of the city. The
+excursionist thinks of but little else during his
+stay there. Wherever he may be, the gigantic
+church is always in view. He beholds it towering
+over all.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Its history is that of Germany. It grew with the German empire,
+and has shared all its triumphs and reverses. It was founded by Clovis.
+It has been imperilled by lightning some fifty times, and has as often
+repelled the shocks of war. In the tenth century it was burned;
+in the eleventh, plundered; and five years after it was nearly demolished
+by lightning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was after the last calamity that the present structure was begun.
+At one time a <em>hundred thousand</em> men were employed upon it: can we
+wonder that it is colossal?</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The giant grew. In 1140, 1150, and 1176 it was partly burned,
+but it rose from the flames always more great, lofty, and splendid.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 432px;">
+<a name="strasburg_cathedral" id="strasburg_cathedral"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl041.jpg" width="432" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">STRASBURG CATHEDRAL.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Indulgences were offered to donors and workmen; to contributors
+of all kinds. Men earned, or thought they earned, their salvation by
+adding their mites to the spreading magnificence. In 1303 it is said
+that all the peasants of Alsace might be seen drawing stone into Strasburg
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
+for the cathedral. Master builder succeeded master builder,&mdash;died,&mdash;but
+the great work went on. In the French Revolution the
+Jacobins tore from the cathedral the statues of two hundred and thirty
+saints; but it was still a city of saints in stone and marble. In 1870,
+in the Franco-Prussian war, its roof was perforated with shells, and on
+the 25th of August it burst into flames, and it was telegraphed over
+the world that the great cathedral was destroyed. But it stands to-day,
+majestic, regal, and beautiful, its spire piercing the sky.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="platform_of_strasburg_cathedral" id="platform_of_strasburg_cathedral"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl042.jpg" width="500" height="312" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PLATFORM OF STRASBURG CATHEDRAL.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the cathedral in the afternoon. We were at once filled
+with wonder at the windows. They burned with color, and seemed to
+hang in air amid the shadows of the lofty walls. They represented
+scriptural subjects.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was standing in awe, gazing upon a gorgeous circular window
+that seemed to blaze in the air like a planet, when Charlie touched my
+arm.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;The clock?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;What?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Can we not go up and see the fixings, and how it is all done?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I am not thinking of that <em>toy</em>,&rsquo; said I; &lsquo;you stand in a monument
+of art that it has taken a thousand years to build.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Yes; I hope we shall be here to-morrow when the Twelve Apostles
+come out and the cock crows <em>at</em> Peter.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">A MEMORABLE CHRISTMAS.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The soldiers of Aurelian, the Roman emperor, used to sing,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We have slain a thousand Franks.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We have cut off the heads of a thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One man hath cut off the heads of a thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May he live a thousand years.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The Franks came out of the North, and established themselves in Gaul and
+Germania during the period of the early Roman emperors. Their most
+renowned king was Clovis, with whom began the empire of France. He was
+a savage and passionate man, born to command and to conquer. He was a
+heathen. It is related of him that once, when he had enriched himself with
+spoils from some of the early Christian churches, the Bishop of Rheims desired
+that he would return a valued vase that had been taken from the cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Follow us to Soissons,&rdquo; said Clovis; &ldquo;there the booty will be divided.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In the division of the booty, a high-spirited and selfish Frankish chieftain
+objected to the bishop&rsquo;s claim, and, to show his contempt for him and the
+Church, struck the vase with his battle-axe. Clovis was offended. He gave
+the bishop the vase, and soon after avenged the insult by striking the chieftain
+dead with his own battle-axe, saying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thus didst thou to the vase at Soissons.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His wife, Clotilde, was a Christian, and she often tried to persuade him to
+embrace the Christian faith.</p>
+
+<p>In 496 the Allemannians, a German confederation, who had been assailing
+the Roman colonies on the Rhine, crossed the river, and invaded the territory
+of the Franks. Clovis met the invaders near Cologne. A severe battle followed.
+Clovis was hard pressed.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 438px;">
+<a name="thus_didst_thou_to_the_vase_of_soissons" id="thus_didst_thou_to_the_vase_of_soissons"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl043.jpg" width="438" height="600"
+alt="Clovis stands over the dead chieftain" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THUS DIDST THOU TO THE VASE OF SOISSONS.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
+He called upon his gods, but they did not answer him. He saw he was in
+danger of being utterly defeated and losing his army.</p>
+
+<p>He had with him a servant of the queen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My Lord King,&rdquo; said this man, &ldquo;believe only on the Lord of heaven,
+whom the queen, my
+mistress, preacheth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clovis raised his
+eyes in hope towards
+heaven,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Christ Jesus,
+thou whom my queen
+Clotilde calleth the
+Son of God, I have
+called upon my own
+gods, and they have
+left me. Thee I invoke.
+Give me victory,
+and I will believe
+in thee, proclaim
+thee to my people,
+and be baptized in
+thy name.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The tide of battle
+now suddenly turned,
+the Allemannians
+were beaten, and their
+king was slain.</p>
+
+<p>When his queen
+had learned of his
+vow, she sent for the
+Bishop of Rheims to
+instruct him in Christianity.
+He publicly
+renounced his gods,
+and his people at the
+same time accepted the queen&rsquo;s faith.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 360px;">
+<a name="street_in_strasburg" id="street_in_strasburg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl044.jpg" width="360" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">STREET IN STRASBURG.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Christmas Day, 496, will be ever memorable in Christian history; it was on
+that day that the King of the Franks was baptized.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+The occasion was one of barbaric splendor, and such as might be expected
+of a warlike king in those rude times. The road from the palace to the baptistery,
+over which the king was to pass, was curtained with silk, mottoes, and
+banners, like a triumphal way. The houses of Rheims were hung with festive
+ornaments, and the baptistery itself was sprinkled with balm and &ldquo;all manner of
+perfume.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The procession moved from the palace like a pageant for a feast of victory.
+The clergy led, bearing the Gospels, standards, and cross. Hymns were chanted,
+as they swept along. Then came the Bishop of Rheims, leading the king; after
+him, the rejoicing queen; and lastly the neophytes who were to receive baptism
+with the king.</p>
+
+<p>On the way, the king seemed impressed with the glittering pageant.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is this kingdom promised me?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; said the bishop; &ldquo;but it is the entrance to the road that leads to it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At the baptistery the bishop said to the king,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lower your head with humility; adore what thou hast burned; burn what
+thou hast adored.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Clovis was then solemnly baptized, and with him three thousand warriors.
+With the imposing rite, Christianity in France began, and with him began that
+great monument of the faith, Strasburg Cathedral.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 433px;">
+<a name="clovis" id="clovis"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl045.jpg" width="433" height="600"
+alt="Clovis on his horse" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CLOVIS.</p>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Charlie Leland furnished the most interesting story on this evening.
+It well illustrated features of German and French musical life
+that are unknown in America. In Germany and in the French provinces
+the organist of the town is a very important person. The choice
+of an organist in these towns is a very interesting event, and during
+the last century excited more discussion than at the present time.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE YOUNG ORGANIST: A MYSTERY.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The towns on the Rhine are all famous for their organs, and proud of the
+eminent organists they have had in the past. Each town points with pride to
+some musical legend and history.</p>
+
+<p>The story I have to tell is associated with an ancient provincial town.</p>
+
+<p>It is now hardly more than a small town, and possesses not above a thousand
+inhabitants; but in the latter part of the last century it was more than ten times
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
+its present size, and its church, now in ruins, was then one of the most beautiful
+ever seen in that part of the country.</p>
+
+<p>This church was finished in the year 1795, and was for a long time the great
+object of curiosity for miles around. It was of the Gothic and Romanesque
+style of architecture, and was not only finely proportioned on the exterior, but
+had within a magnificence of decoration that astonished one more and more
+the longer he gazed upon it.</p>
+
+<p>The church, unlike some of the older ones standing at that time, had a magnificent
+organ. This had been paid for by a separate subscription, raised in
+small sums by the common people, and, having been built by skilful workmen in
+Bordeaux, was at length set up in the church amid considerable enthusiasm and
+excitement.</p>
+
+<p>But who should play this grand instrument? How should a competent
+organist be selected?</p>
+
+<p>The people were greatly interested in the matter, and discussed it on the
+corner of the <i>rues</i>, in the <i>brasseries</i> or taverns; and for a period of six or eight
+weeks you might be sure, if you saw more than two people talking earnestly
+together, that they were deliberating upon the choice of an organist.</p>
+
+<p>Since the people, both high and low, had so freely contributed for the purchase
+of the organ, it was thought very proper that they should be allowed to
+choose a person to play it. And, the decision being thus left to the multitude,
+the most feasible plan that was suggested was that all should go, on an
+appointed day, to the church, and should then listen to the playing of the various
+candidates.</p>
+
+<p>There were, in all, nearly a score of aspiring musicians in and near the town;
+and each of these, hoping for a favorable decision for himself, gave no end of
+little suppers and parties, so that the influential ones among the townsmen fared
+sumptuously from all.</p>
+
+<p>But out of the entire number there were two, between whom the choice
+really lay. These were Baptiste Lacombe and Raoul Tegot.</p>
+
+<p>The former of these had lived in the town only five years. He had come
+from Bruges, so he said; and although he astonished everybody by his skill, he
+had not been liked from the first. He was very reserved and parsimonious, and
+his eye never met frankly the person with whom he talked. But no harm was
+known of him, and he found in Tranteigue plenty of exercise for his art.</p>
+
+<p>Raoul Tegot, on the contrary, was a native of the town; and, together with
+his young son, Fran&ccedil;ois, was beloved by all. He had married one of the village
+maidens, and had been so inconsolable at her death, which occurred when Fran&ccedil;ois
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
+was a baby, that he never thought more of marriage, but devoted himself
+to his child and
+his art.</p>
+
+<p>He was certainly
+a very able
+musician, and,
+being so universally
+liked, many
+people urged that
+a public performance
+be dispensed
+with, and that he
+be elected at
+once. But although
+Baptiste
+Lacombe was not
+<em>liked</em>, his <em>skill</em>
+found many admirers;
+and, besides,
+it was flattering
+to the
+worthy countryfolk
+to think of
+sitting solemnly
+in judgment at
+the great church;
+and so the proposed
+plan was
+adhered to.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 335px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="monsieur_lacombe_and_the_organ" id="monsieur_lacombe_and_the_organ"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl046.jpg" width="335" height="500"
+alt="Monsieur Lacombe and the organ" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Finally, the
+weeks of anticipation
+came to
+an end, the appointed
+day was
+at hand, and, according
+to the arrangements previously made, at nine o&rsquo;clock in the forenoon
+the three great doors of the church were swung open, and the throng, orderly
+and even dignified, entered and filled the edifice.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
+The seats, which in French churches and cathedrals are movable, had all
+been taken away, and the crowd quite filled the whole space. All male inhabitants
+of the town who were over twenty years of age were to vote, and each, the
+town officials and the poorest artisans alike, had one ballot.</p>
+
+<p>The great and beautiful organ took up nearly the whole of the large gallery
+over the entrance, and extended up and up into the clear-story until it was
+mingled with the supports of the roof.</p>
+
+<p>In the organ-loft the candidates were crowded together in eager expectation,
+and the glances that passed from one to another were not the kindliest. Each
+of them had been allowed several hours, at some time during the past week, for
+practice on the instrument; and each doubtless considered himself deserving of
+the position.</p>
+
+<p>Presently, when all was still, Monseigneur Jules &Eacute;mile Gautier, a very learned
+gentleman of the town, who had been chosen for that purpose, ascended two
+steps of the stairway which curved up and around the richly carved pulpit, and
+announced the name of the person who was to begin.</p>
+
+<p>I should not be able to give, in detail, the progress of the trial; for the history
+of the affair is not minute enough for that. But suffice it to say that the last
+name on the list was Raoul Tegot; and the name immediately preceding it was
+that of Baptiste Lacombe.</p>
+
+<p>At length, in his turn, Monsieur Lacombe, his iron-gray hair disordered, his
+hands rubbing together nervously, and his eyes flashing&mdash;as was afterwards
+remarked upon&mdash;with a malicious fire, stepped forward and along to the organ-seat,
+and for a few moments arranged his stops.</p>
+
+<p>Then he began lightly and delicately, creeping up through the varied registers
+of the noble instrument, blending the beautiful sounds into wonderful
+combinations, now and then working in a sweet melody, and then again upward
+until the grand harmonies of the full organ rolled forth. There was something
+mysterious and awe-inspiring in the effort. It seemed to the people that they
+had never heard music before.</p>
+
+<p>The music ceased. The people came back to their prosaic selves again,
+looked in each other&rsquo;s faces, and said, with one breath, &ldquo;Wonderful!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Gradually they recovered their sober judgment, and then, mingled with the
+murmurs of admiration, were heard the remarks, &ldquo;That is fine, but Raoul Tegot
+will make us forget it!&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes, wait until you hear Raoul Tegot!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Soon Gautier ascended the two steps of the pulpit, and called the name of
+their kind, generous townsman.</p>
+
+<p>All waited breathlessly. All eyes were turned towards the organ-loft. The
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
+musicians there looked around and at each other. But poor Raoul Tegot could
+not be seen.</p>
+
+<p>Where was he? The people waited and wondered, but he did not come.
+Monsieur Baptiste Lacombe was greatly excited, and was wiping the perspiration
+from his heated face. &ldquo;Perhaps he was afraid to come,&rdquo; he ventured to remark
+to a man near him, at the same time looking out of a window.</p>
+
+<p>Several noticed his agitation; but they only said, &ldquo;Ah, mon Dieu, how he
+did play! No wonder that he is nervous.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The disquiet and confusion in the nave and aisles increased.</p>
+
+<p>A messenger had been sent to look for the missing man; but he could not
+be found.</p>
+
+<p>What was to be done?</p>
+
+<p>Finally, some friends of Monsieur Lacombe made bold to urge his immediate
+election, declaring that he had far surpassed all competitors; and they even
+hinted at cowardice on the part of Raoul Tegot.</p>
+
+<p>This insinuation was indignantly denied by Tegot&rsquo;s friends, who were very
+numerous but helpless; they knew their friend too well to believe him capable
+of such conduct. He was, they said, probably detained somewhere by an
+accident.</p>
+
+<p>But, wherever he was, he was <em>not</em> present; and when a vote was taken,
+hastily, by a showing of hands, Monsieur Baptiste Lacombe had ten times as
+many ballots as any other person, and, of course, poor Monsieur Tegot, not having
+competed, was not balloted for at all.</p>
+
+<p>The people dispersed to their homes; some in vexation that their favorite
+had not appeared, others in a little alarm at his strange absence. Young Fran&ccedil;ois
+Tegot had not seen his father since early morning, and could not conjecture
+where he might be.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the missing organist did not appear, and his friends began to
+inquire and to search for him; but they were wholly unsuccessful. A little
+boy said that he had seen him go into the church with Monsieur Lacombe early
+that morning; but Monsieur Lacombe said, very distinctly and with some vehemence,
+that the missing man had left the church an hour later to go to a cottage
+at the edge of the town, where he was to give a lesson in singing.</p>
+
+<p>So the affair lay wrapped in mystery. There were many surmises, but nothing
+definite was known. A few expressed suspicion of the rival candidate; but the
+suspicion was too great to be thrown rashly upon anybody. Thus no progress
+in the inquiry was made. A human life did not mean so much in those stormy
+days after the Revolution as formerly; and the mysterious disappearance, without
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
+being in the least cleared up, gradually faded from men&rsquo;s minds and passed out
+of their conversation.</p>
+
+<p>Months and years passed away, and nothing was known of the poor man.
+His son, now come to the years of manhood, always declared that his father
+would not have been absent from the trial willingly; and he firmly believed that
+he had met with a violent death. More than this he would not say; but sometimes
+when he looked towards Monsieur Baptiste Lacombe,&mdash;still the respected
+organist of the church,&mdash;his eyes were observed to flash meaningly.</p>
+
+<p>There was to be a grand <i>f&ecirc;te</i> in the church, and great preparation was made.
+As the organ needed repairs, it was decided to repair it thoroughly; and one of
+the builders from Bordeaux was sent for.</p>
+
+<p>He was to come on Thursday; but he chanced to arrive the day before, and
+was to begin work early the following morning. That night a light glimmered
+out of the darkness of the gallery of the church.</p>
+
+<p>Two days passed. The repairing of the organ went on; but there was much
+to be done, and it might take a week. One afternoon, as Fran&ccedil;ois passed
+through the centre of the village, two men came hurriedly out of the town-house,
+and hastened away towards the church. It was the organ-builder, very much
+excited, and one of the officials of the town. The young man, venturing on his
+well-known skill as an organist, followed them; and the three entered the building.
+A few worshippers were at the great altar, and the sacred edifice seemed
+unusually quiet and peaceful.</p>
+
+<p>The organ-builder seemed too agitated to answer the questions that the town
+official asked him, but led the way quickly to the organ-loft. &ldquo;Put your foot on
+that pedal!&rdquo; he said excitedly, pointing to a particular one of the scale.</p>
+
+<p>The official was too bewildered to comply, and Fran&ccedil;ois did it for him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Now try the next one!&rdquo; said he.</p>
+
+<p>Fran&ccedil;ois did so, but no sound came; only a queer, intermittent rumbling,
+like a bounding and rebounding.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It does not sound,&rdquo; said the organ-builder. &ldquo;Follow me and I will show
+you why.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It never has sounded since the great trial-day, years ago,&rdquo; muttered the
+young man. But he followed on.</p>
+
+<p>They clambered up a rickety staircase, a still more rickety ladder, and came
+to a platform at a level with the top of the organ; and all around them, reaching
+up out of the dim light below, were the open pipes. Passing hurriedly around,
+on a narrow plank, to the back of the organ, their agitated guide paused before
+a row of immense pedal pipes, and, without allowing his own eyes to look, he
+held the light that he carried for the others.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>
+Both looked down into the cavernous tube that he indicated, and both started
+back in surprise and fear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is a man&rsquo;s legs!&rdquo; gasped the frightened town official.</p>
+
+<p>After the first moment of surprise had passed, they began to get back their
+wits; and the young man advised that they send for several strong men and lift
+out the pipe.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 500px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="here_is_an_odd_treasure" id="here_is_an_odd_treasure"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl047.jpg" width="500" height="370"
+alt="Three men examine a locket" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>This seemed sensible, and in a half-hour the men were at hand and the pipe
+was drawn down to the level of the organ-loft and laid horizontally. The workmen
+had been informed of the nature of their work, and all were under intense
+excitement. The pipe was very long, and the body was at least five feet from
+the top. One of the workmen reached in a pole having a hook at the end, and
+the next minute drew forth the dead body of the sinister old organist, Baptiste
+Lacombe.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pause of silent horror. Nobody cared particularly for the dead
+man, but the manner of his death was terrible.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How did it happen?&rdquo; whispered one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Perhaps it was suicide,&rdquo; answered another.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
+They began more closely to examine the huge tube. Fran&ccedil;ois Tegot, who,
+although thus far cooler than the others, now seemed unable to stand, pointed
+to the hand of the dead man, which was tightly clenched upon a small cord.
+One of the workmen approached, and with some difficulty drew out the line:
+and a new thrill of expectation went through the silent company when they saw,
+attached to the end of the line, an old leather bundle covered with dust.</p>
+
+<p>Young Tegot now seemed to master himself by a great effort, and, motioning
+the workman back, he advanced, and, lifting the bag tenderly out into a more
+convenient position, he said solemnly, as if to himself, &ldquo;I have long suspected
+something was wrong, and now I shall know.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then he examined the bag, and at length took from his pocket a knife and
+carefully cut open one side.</p>
+
+<p>Despite the fact that he expected the revelation that now came, he started
+back, for the opening revealed a piece of cloth,&mdash;a coat, which even the town
+official could recollect to be the coat of the long-lost organist, Raoul Tegot,
+Fran&ccedil;ois&rsquo;s father.</p>
+
+<p>The young man stepped back and sank again into his seat, and the others,
+coming forward, laid the bag quite open, and drew forth a watch and an embroidered
+vest; in a pocket of the coat was found a purse. &ldquo;Here is an odd
+treasure,&rdquo; said one of the workmen, holding up a locket of dull gold.</p>
+
+<p>Fran&ccedil;ois seized it and opened it. The color forsook his face and his eyes
+filled with tears. He simply said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My mother.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The town official now whispered to the surprised organ-builder, that the villanous
+Lacombe had killed poor Tegot on the morning of the trial, and had
+secreted the body in some unknown place and hidden the valuables here.
+Frightened by the fear of discovery, he had attempted to remove the treasures,
+had fallen into the pipe, and had thus met a horrible death.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is nothing secret,&rdquo; said Fran&ccedil;ois, &ldquo;but shall be revealed. Sin is its
+own detector, and its secrets cannot rest.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The excitement among the townspeople was for many days even greater than
+it had been at the time of Tegot&rsquo;s disappearance, and many and bitter were the
+reproaches heaped upon the wicked organist&rsquo;s memory.</p>
+
+<p>Fran&ccedil;ois was immediately chosen organist, and held the position during his
+entire life.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>EVENING THE FOURTH.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Seven Nights on the Rhine:&mdash;Heidelberg.&mdash;Students.&mdash;Student Songs.&mdash;The
+Story of Little Mook.&mdash;The Queer Old Lady who went to College.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcaph"><span class="dropcap">H</span></span>EIDELBERG,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal, &ldquo;stands bright and
+clear beside Neckar, a branch of the Rhine, as
+though it loved the river. It is semicircled with
+blue mountain-walls, and is full of balmy air and
+cheerful faces. The streets have an atmosphere
+of hospitality. Its history dates from the Roman
+monuments on its hills, and is associated with the romantic times of
+the counts-palatine of the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The world-wide fame of Heidelberg arises from its university.
+This was founded in 1386, and is the oldest in Germany. It made
+Heidelberg a student-town; there art flourished and free thought
+grew, and it became the gem of German cities.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The ancient Castle of Heidelberg is one of the wonders of Germany.
+It is like a ruined town of palaces, and historic and poetic
+associations are as thick as are the violets among its ruins. It is said
+that Michael Angelo designed it: we cannot tell. The names of the
+masters who upreared the pile of magnificence for centuries and peopled
+it with statues are lost. The ivy creeps over their conceptions in
+stone and marble, and the traveller exclaims in awe, &lsquo;Can it be that
+all this glory was created for destruction?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 441px;">
+<a name="palace_at_heidelberg" id="palace_at_heidelberg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl048.jpg" width="441" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PALACE AT HEIDELBERG.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the castle at noon. A ruin green with ivy rose before
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
+us. The sunlight fell through the open doorways, and the swallows
+flitted in and out of the window-frames into roofless chambers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I was dreaming of the past: of the counts-palatine of the Rhine,
+of stately dames, orange-gardens, and splendid festivals, when one of
+the boys recalled my thoughts to the present.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Where is the tun?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;What tun?&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The one <em>we have come to see</em>,&mdash;the big wine-cask. It is said to
+hold two hundred and thirty-six thousand bottles of wine, or did in the
+days of the nobles.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I remember: when I was a boy my mental picture of Heidelberg
+was a big wine-cask.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Yes; well, please, sir, I am a boy now.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal then gave a brief account of</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">GERMAN STUDENT LIFE.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The town of Heidelberg nestles in one of the loveliest valleys in Europe.
+The Neckar winds between a series of steep, high, thickly wooded hills.</p>
+
+<p>It is amid such pleasant scenes that the famous university is situated, and
+that several hundred German students are gathered to pursue their studies.</p>
+
+<p>One of my chief objects in visiting Heidelberg was to see the university,
+and to observe the curious student customs of which I had heard so much; and
+my journey was amply repaid by what I saw.</p>
+
+<p>The university itself was far less imposing than I had imagined; compared
+with the picturesque and hoary old college palaces of Oxford and Cambridge, or
+even with our own cosey Harvard and Yale edifices and greens, it seemed very
+insignificant.</p>
+
+<p>The buildings occupy a cheerless square in a central part of the quaint
+old German town. They are very plain, modest, and unpretending. The
+lecture-rooms are on one side of the square; in the rear are the museum and
+reading room, while opposite the lecture-rooms is a row of jewelry, clothing,
+confectionery, and other shops. I was most interested, however, in the students
+and their ways.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+As soon as you enter the town and pass up the main street, you espy groups
+of the students here and there. You are at once struck with the contrast they
+present to American or English students. Very odd to American eyes are their
+dress and manners. Let me describe one to you as an example.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE GERMAN STUDENT.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The Heidelberg student is a rather large, heavy-looking fellow, with round
+face, broad shoulders, and a very awkward gait. His hair is cropped close to
+his head, and on one side of the head, in jaunty fashion, he wears a small round
+cap,&mdash;too small by far to cover it, as
+caps generally do. It is of red or blue
+or green, and worked with fanciful figures
+of gold or silver thread.</p>
+
+<p>On his feet are heavy boots, which
+rise, outside his trousers, nearly to the
+knees. His body is covered with a
+gay frock-coat, of green or gray or
+black. As he walks the street with
+his college mates, he puffs away on a
+very curious long pipe, the bowl being
+of porcelain, on which is painted some
+fanciful scene, or perhaps a view of the
+grand old castle. Sometimes the stem
+of the pipe is two or three feet long.
+In his hand he carries a cane, or rather
+stick (for it is too short to be used as
+a cane), with some curiously carved
+figure for a handle.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 259px;">
+<a name="german_student" id="german_student"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl049.jpg" width="259" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GERMAN STUDENT.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Many of the Heidelberg students
+are attended, wherever they go, by
+a companion who is apt to produce
+fear and dislike in those who
+are not accustomed to him. This is a
+small, blear-eyed, bullet-headed, bloodthirsty-looking
+bull-dog, with red eyes
+and snarling mouth. You see such dogs everywhere with the students, running
+close to their heels, and ready, at an instant&rsquo;s notice, to defend their masters.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 440px;">
+<a name="castle_at_heidelberg" id="castle_at_heidelberg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl050.jpg" width="440" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CASTLE AT HEIDELBERG.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
+Almost every Heidelberg student belongs to one of the social societies, of
+which some are called &ldquo;Verbindungs,&rdquo; and others &ldquo;Corps;&rdquo; and the caps they
+wear designate the particular societies of which they are members.</p>
+
+<p>These societies are both patriotic and social. The members devote themselves
+to &ldquo;the glory of the Fatherland;&rdquo; and they pledge themselves by oaths
+to defend and aid each other.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the cap, the students betray to what society they belong by various
+colored ribbons across their breasts or hung to their watch-chains. There is a
+great deal of rivalry among the societies, which results in frequent difficulties.</p>
+
+<p>The pastimes of the Heidelberg students are almost entirely confined to the
+&ldquo;good times&rdquo; they have in their &ldquo;Verbindungs,&rdquo; in which they meet two nights in
+the week to sing, make funny speeches, and perform certain curious ceremonies.</p>
+
+<p>The students often make excursions to a beautiful spot on the Neckar, called
+&ldquo;Wolfsbrunnen,&rdquo; where they obtain trout fresh from a pond, and eat them,
+nicely cooked, on tables set out under the trees near the river-side.</p>
+
+<p>Another frequent recreation is to attend the peasant fairs in the neighboring
+villages, and to take jaunts to the lovely Swetzingen gardens, or to the top of the
+Konigsthul hill, back of the castle, from which a most beautiful view of the Black
+Forest and Hartz Mountains, with the broad valley of the Rhine, is to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>On this hill is an inn where many resort to drink whey. Many of the students
+are too poor to enjoy the pastimes of the others, or even to live at the
+university without doing something to support themselves.</p>
+
+<p>These go wandering about the country in vacation time, on foot, singing in
+the villages, and receiving money from the kindly disposed, with which to pay
+the expenses of their education. As you pass through Germany you frequently
+meet parties of these poor students, who go about merrily; and to give them a
+few kreuzers is always a pleasure.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal gave from translations a few specimens of these German
+student songs. The first was</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">GAUDEAMUS.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let us then rejoice, ere youth<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From our grasp hath hurried;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After cheerful youth is past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">After cheerless age, at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the earth we&rsquo;re buried.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Where are those who lived of yore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Men whose days are over?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To the realms above thee go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thence unto the shades below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">An&rsquo; thou wilt discover.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Short and fleeting is our life,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Swift away &rsquo;tis wearing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swiftly, too, will death be here,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cruel, us away to tear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Naught that liveth sparing.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long live Academia,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And our tutors clever;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All our comrades long live they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And our female comrades gay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">May they bloom forever.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long live every maiden true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who has worth and beauty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may every matron who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind and good is, flourish, too,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Each who does her duty.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Long may also live our state,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the king who guides us;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Long may live our town, and fate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prosper each Mec&aelig;nas great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who good things provides us.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Perish melancholy woe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Perish who derides us;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perish fiend, and perish so<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every antiburschian foe<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who for laughing chides us.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 478px;">
+<a name="german_students" id="german_students"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl051.jpg" width="478" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GERMAN STUDENTS.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal, finding the Class interested, continued the subject by
+some account of one of the most popular writers of German songs.</p>
+
+
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">HEINE.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The songs of Heine are unmatched in German literature, and have been
+translated into all European tongues. Their beauty of expression, and suggestive
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
+and evasive meanings, have made them household words in Germany, and
+favorite quotations in France and England.</p>
+
+<p>The career of Heine was exceptionably brilliant, and he won tributes of
+admiration that have seldom been equalled. It is said that on the appearance
+of his &ldquo;Reisebilder&rdquo; in 1826-31, &ldquo;young Germany became intoxicated with
+enthusiasm.&rdquo; His writings on republicanism not only won the heart of the
+people, but carried his influence into other countries.</p>
+
+<p>From his youth Heine was troubled by thoughts of personal religious responsibility.
+There were periods when he earnestly sought to know man&rsquo;s true
+relations to God. He sought the evidence of truth, however, more from nature,
+philosophy, and history, than by the prayers and the faith which God&rsquo;s Word
+inculcates.</p>
+
+<p>He was born a Jew, but abandoned Judaism and was baptized in the
+Lutheran Church. Then he became a free-thinker. He studied various philosophies
+and systems of belief, but was not able to arrive at any satisfactory
+conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>In 1847 he was attacked by a strange disease. It paralyzed his body, and
+confined him for many years to his chair. For seven years he was propped up
+by pillows, and read his praises on a couch of suffering, and they made his life
+more sad.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What good,&rdquo; he said, in despair, &ldquo;does it do me to hear that my health is
+drunk in cups of gold, when I can only wet my lips with barley-water?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In this condition he read &ldquo;Uncle Tom&rsquo;s Cabin.&rdquo; It revealed to him the
+truth that religion is a matter of experience rather than philosophy, and
+that the humblest may receive the evidence of its truth through simple faith
+in Christ.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;With all my learning,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the poor negro knew more about religion
+than I do now, and I must come to a knowledge of the truth in the same humble
+way as poor Uncle Tom.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He left this testimony in his will: &ldquo;I have cast aside all philosophical pride,
+and have again felt the power of religious truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>I will recite to you one of the songs of Heine, which is popular among the
+German students.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE LORELEI.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I know not whence it rises,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">This thought so full of woe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a tale of times departed<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Haunts me, and will not go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">The air is cool, and it darkens,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And calmly flows the Rhine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mountain-peaks are sparkling<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the sunny evening-shine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yonder sits a maiden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The fairest of the fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gold is her garment glittering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she combs her golden hair:<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With a golden comb she combs it;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And a wild song singeth she,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That melts the heart with a wondrous<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And powerful melody.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The boatman feels his bosom<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With a nameless longing move;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sees not the gulfs before him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His gaze is fixed above,<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Till over boat and boatman<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Rhine&rsquo;s deep waters run:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this, with her magic singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Lorelei has done!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Among the pleasing stories related on this evening was &ldquo;Little
+Mook,&rdquo; by Hauff, and a poetic account of a &ldquo;Queer Old Lady who
+went to College.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">LITTLE MOOK.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>There once lived a dwarf in the town of Niceu, whom the people called
+Little Mook. He lived alone, and was thought to be rich. He had a very
+small body and a very large head, and he wore an enormous turban.</p>
+
+<p>He seldom went into the streets, for the reason that ill-bred children there
+followed and annoyed him. They used to cry after him,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Little Mook, O Little Mook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turn, oh, turn about and look!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Once a month you leave your room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With your head like a balloon:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Try to catch us, if you can;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turn and look, my little man.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 439px;">
+<a name="entrance_to_heidelberg_castle" id="entrance_to_heidelberg_castle"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl052.jpg" width="439" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ENTRANCE TO HEIDELBERG CASTLE.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+I will tell you his history.</p>
+
+<p>His father was a hard-hearted man, and treated him unkindly because he
+was deformed. The old man at last died, and his relatives drove the dwarf
+away from his home.</p>
+
+<p>He wandered into the strange world with a cheerful spirit, for the strange
+world was more kind to him
+than his kin had been.</p>
+
+<p>He came at last to a strange
+town, and looked around for
+some face that should seem pitiful
+and friendly. He saw an
+old house, into whose door a
+great number of cats were passing.
+&ldquo;If the people here are so
+good to cats, they may be kind
+to me,&rdquo; he thought, and so he
+followed them. He was met by
+an old woman, who asked him
+what he wanted.</p>
+
+<p>He told his sad story.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t cook any but for
+my darling pussy cats,&rdquo; said the
+beldame; &ldquo;but I pity your hard
+lot, and you may make your
+home with me until you can
+find a better.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Little Mook was employed
+to look after the cats and
+kittens.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 302px;">
+<a name="little_mook" id="little_mook"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl053.jpg" width="302" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LITTLE MOOK.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The kittens, I am sorry to say,
+used to behave very badly when the old dame went abroad; and when she came
+home and found the house in confusion, and bowls and vases broken, she used
+to berate Little Mook for what he could not help.</p>
+
+<p>While in the old lady&rsquo;s service he discovered a secret room in which were
+magic articles, among them a pair of enormous slippers.</p>
+
+<p>One day when the old lady was out the little dog broke a crystal vase.
+Little Mook knew that he would be held responsible for the accident, and he
+resolved to escape and try his fortune in the world again. He would need good
+shoes, for the journey might be long; so he put on the big slippers and ran away.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
+Ran? What wonderful slippers those were! He had only to say to them,
+&ldquo;Go!&rdquo; and they would impel him forward with the rapidity of the wind. They
+seemed to him like wings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will become a courier,&rdquo; said Little Mook, &ldquo;and so make my fortune, sure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Little Mook went to the palace in order to apply to the king.</p>
+
+<p>He first met the messenger-in-ordinary.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What!&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;you want to be the king&rsquo;s messenger,&mdash;you with your
+little feet and great slippers!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you allow me to make a trial of speed with your swiftest runner?&rdquo;
+asked Little Mook.</p>
+
+<p>The messenger-in-ordinary told the king about the little man and his application.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We will have some fun with him,&rdquo; said the king. &ldquo;Let him run a race
+with my first messenger for the sport of the court.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So it was arranged that Little Mook should try his speed with the swiftest
+messenger.</p>
+
+<p>Now the king&rsquo;s runner was a very tall man. His legs were very long and
+slender; he had little flesh on his body. He walked with wonderful swiftness,
+looking like a windmill as he strode forward. He was the telegraph of his
+times, and the king was very proud of him.</p>
+
+<p>The next day the king, who loved a jest, summoned his court to a meadow
+to witness the race, and to see what the bumptious pygmy could do. Everybody
+was on tiptoe of expectation, being sure that something amusing would
+follow.</p>
+
+<p>When Little Mook appeared he bowed to the spectators, who laughed at him.
+When the signal was given for the two to start, Little Mook allowed the runner
+to go ahead of him for a little time, but when the latter drew near the king&rsquo;s
+seat he passed him, to the wonder of all the people, and easily won the race.</p>
+
+<p>The king was delighted, the princess waved her veil, and the people all
+shouted, &ldquo;Huzza for Little Mook!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>So Little Mook became the royal messenger, and surpassed all the runners
+in the world with his magic slippers.</p>
+
+<p>But Little Mook&rsquo;s great success with his magic slippers excited envy, and
+made him bitter enemies, and at last the king himself came to believe the
+stories of his enemies, and turned against him and banished him from his
+kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>Little Mook wandered away, sore at heart, and as friendless as when he had
+left home and the house of the old woman. Just beyond the confines of the
+kingdom he came to a grove of fig-trees full of fruit.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
+He stopped to rest and refresh himself with the fruit. There were two trees
+that bore the finest figs he had ever seen. He gathered some figs from one of
+them, but as he was eating them
+his nose and ears began to
+<em>grow</em>, and when he looked down
+into a clear, pure stream near
+by, he saw that his head had
+been changed into a head like
+a donkey.</p>
+
+<p>He sat down under the
+<em>other</em> fig-tree in despair. At
+last he took up a fig that had
+fallen from this tree, and ate it.
+Immediately his nose and ears
+became smaller and smaller
+and resumed their natural
+shape. Then he perceived that
+the trees bore magic fruit.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Happy thought!&rdquo; said
+Little Mook. &ldquo;I will go back
+to the palace and sell the fruit
+of the first tree to the royal
+household, and then I will turn
+doctor, and give the donkeys
+the fruit of the second tree as
+medicine. But I will not give
+the old king any medicine.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 300px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="amputation" id="amputation"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl054.jpg" width="300" height="400"
+alt="A physician tries to amputate a sufferer&#39;s nose" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Little Mook gathered the two kinds of figs, and returned to the palace and
+sold that of the first tree to the butler.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, then there was woe in the palace! The king&rsquo;s family were seen wandering
+around with donkeys&rsquo; heads on their shoulders. Their noses and ears
+were as long as their arms. The physicians were sent for and they held a <em>consultation</em>.
+They decided on amputation; but as fast as they cut off the noses
+and ears of the afflicted household, these troublesome members grew out again,
+longer than before.</p>
+
+<p>Then Little Mook appeared with the principles and remedies of hom&oelig;opathy.
+He gave one by one of the sufferers the figs of the <em>second</em> tree, and they
+were cured. He collected his fees, and having relieved all but the king he fled,
+taking his hom&oelig;opathic arts with him. The king wore the head of a donkey
+to his latest day.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span></p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE QUEER OLD LADY WHO WENT TO COLLEGE.</h4>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 311px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="the_queer_old_lady_who_went_to_college" id="the_queer_old_lady_who_went_to_college"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl055.jpg" width="311" height="500"
+alt="The queer old lady who went to college" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There was a queer old lady, and she had lost her youth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">She bought her a new mirror,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And it told to her the truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Did she break the truthful mirror?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Oh, no, no; no, no, no, no.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">But she bought some stays quite rare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some false teeth and wavy hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some convex-concave glasses such as men of culture wear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And then she looked again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she said, &ldquo;I am not plain,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I am not plain, &rsquo;tis plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Not very, very plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I did not think that primps and crimps<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Would change a body so.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I&rsquo;ll take a book on Art,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And press it to my heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I&rsquo;ll straightway go to college,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where I think I&rsquo;ll catch a beau.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 200px;">
+<a name="and_it_told_to_her_the_truth" id="and_it_told_to_her_the_truth"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl056.jpg" width="200" height="191"
+alt="The old lady is unhappy" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;And it told to her the truth.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 141px;">
+<a name="not_very_very_plain" id="not_very_very_plain"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl057.jpg" width="141" height="200"
+alt="The old woman" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;Not very, very plain.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">II.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">She made her way to college just as straight as straight could be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she asked for the Professor of the new philosophie;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He met her with a smile<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And said, &ldquo;Pray rest awhile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And come into my parlor and take a cup of tea.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We will talk of themes celestial,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the flowery nights in June<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When blow the gentle zephyrs;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the circle round the moon;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the causes of the causes.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These college men are quite and very much polite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when you call upon them they you straightway in invite.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 162px;">
+<a name="they_you_straightway_in_invite" id="they_you_straightway_in_invite"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl058.jpg" width="162" height="200"
+alt="Someone calling on a college man" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;They you straightway in invite.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">III.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the lady she was modest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And she said, &ldquo;You me confuse;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I have come, O man of wisdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To get a bit of news.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There&rsquo;s a problem of life&rsquo;s problems<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That often puzzles me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell me true, O man of Science,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When my wedding-day will be.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">IV.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Quick by the hand he seized her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He of the philosophie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his answer greatly pleased her<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When they had taken tea:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&rsquo;Twill be, my fair young lady,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When you are <em>twenty-three</em>!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
+<span class="i6">V.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">At her window, filled with flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then she waited happy hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scanned the byways and the highways<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To see what she could see.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the postman brought a letter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was sure to greatly fret her,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fret her so her maid she&rsquo;d frighten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">If a dun it proved to be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If it came not from a lover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sadly she her face would cover,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hide her face and say in sorrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Truly <em>he</em> will come to-morrow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he knew, that man of science,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And I&rsquo;m <em>almost</em> twenty-three.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i6">VI.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He deceived her, he deceived her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, that too kind man deceived her,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He of compasses and lenses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He of new-found influences,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He of the philosophie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh the chatterer, oh the flatterer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh the smatterer in science,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">To whom all things clear should be!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had he taken the old almanac,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That true guide to worldly wisdom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would have seen that there was something&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some stray figure, some lost factor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something added the extractor&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wrong in his chronologie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In his learned chronologie.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i5">MORAL.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There are few things, one, two, three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the earth, the air, and sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That the schoolmen do not know.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When you&rsquo;re going to catch a beau,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a few like occultations,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In a few things here below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Men of wisdom do not know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to them for these few items<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">It is never wise to go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="he_of_the_philosophie" id="he_of_the_philosophie"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl059.jpg" width="600" height="395"
+alt="The professor peers out of his study window" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">&ldquo;HE OF THE PHILOSOPHIE.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>FIFTH MEETING FOR RHINE STORIES.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Seven Nights on the Rhine:&mdash;Worms.&mdash;Luther&rsquo;s Monument.&mdash;The Story of
+Siegfried and the Dragon.&mdash;Mayence.&mdash;Boat Journey.&mdash;Stories of the
+Castles on the Middle Rhine.&mdash;The Wonderful Story of the Lorelei.&mdash;Kerner.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapm"><span class="dropcap">M</span></span>R. BEAL continued the narrative of travel at the
+fifth meeting of the Club for the rehearsal of
+Rhine stories.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;We passed over a road along the right bank
+of the Rhine towards Worms. We journeyed
+amid green forests, and past fields which had heaped up harvests
+for a thousand years. Spires gleamed on the opposite bank, and in
+the flat landscape Worms came to view, the Rhine flowing calmly by.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We stopped at Worms to see the cathedral and the Luther Monument.
+It is a dull town. We recalled that it was here great C&aelig;sar
+stood, and Attila drove his cavalry of devastation over the Rhine.
+Here lived the hero of German classic song,&mdash;Siegfried. The cathedral
+has a monumental history. In 772 war was declared in it against
+the Saxons. Here was held the famous Diet of Worms at which
+Luther appeared, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise. God help me.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The cathedral is of the style called Romanesque. It is lofty and
+gloomy. Worms itself is a shadowy and silent city as compared with
+the past.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Luther Monument is a history of Protestantism in stone and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
+bronze. It is one of the noblest works of art of modern times, and its
+majesty and unity are a surprise to the traveller. Luther is of course
+the central figure. He stands with his Bible in his hands, and his
+face upturned to heaven. Around him are the figures of the great
+reformers before the Reformation: Wycliffe, of England; Waldo, of
+France; Huss, of Bohemia; and Savonarola, of Italy. The German
+princes who befriended and sustained the Reformer occupy conspicuous
+places, and the immense group presents a most impressive scene,
+associated with lofty character and commanding talent.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="a_battle_between_franks_and_saxons" id="a_battle_between_franks_and_saxons"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl060.jpg" width="500" height="280" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A BATTLE BETWEEN FRANKS AND SAXONS.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We went to the place where Luther sat beneath a tree, when his
+companions sought to dissuade him from entering Worms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I would go to Worms,&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;were there as many devils as
+there are tiles upon the roofs.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The high pitched roofs and innumerable tiles on them everywhere
+met our eyes, and recalled the famous declaration.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 420px;">
+<a name="luthers_house" id="luthers_house"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl061.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LUTHER&rsquo;S HOUSE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I should here tell you the</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147"><!-- illustration --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">STORY OF SIEGFRIED AND THE NIBELUNG HEROES.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The early nations of Europe seem to have come out of the northwest of
+Asia. The Celts or Gauls came first; other tribes followed them. These latter
+tribes called themselves <i>Deutsch</i>, or <em>the people</em>. They settled between the Alps
+and the Baltic Sea. In time they came to be called Ger-men, or war-men.
+They lived in rude huts and held the lands in common. They were strong and
+brave and prosperous.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="a_tribe_of_germans_on_an_expedition" id="a_tribe_of_germans_on_an_expedition"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl062.jpg" width="500" height="277" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A TRIBE OF GERMANS ON AN EXPEDITION.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>They worshipped the great god Woden. His day of worship was the fourth
+of the week; hence Woden&rsquo;s-day, or Wednesday.</p>
+
+<p>Woden was an all-wise god. Ravens carried to him the news from earth.
+His temples were stone altars on desolate heaths, and human sacrifices were
+offered to him.</p>
+
+<p>Woden had a celestial hall called Valhall, and thither he transported the
+souls of the brave; hence the name Valhalla.</p>
+
+<p>There were supposed to be water gods in the rivers and elves throughout
+the forest. The heavens were peopled with minor gods, as well as the great
+gods, and the spirits of the unseen world could make themselves visible or invisible
+to men as they chose.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
+Most great nations have heroes of song sung by the poets, like those of
+Homer and Virgil. The early German hero was Siegfried, and the song or
+epic that celebrates his deeds is called the <i>Nibelungen Lied</i>. Its story is as
+follows.</p>
+
+<p>In the Land of Mist there was a lovely river, where dwelt little people who
+could assume any form they wished. One of them was accustomed to change
+himself into an otter when he went to the river to fish. As he was fishing one
+day in this form he was caught by Loki, one of the great gods, who immediately
+despatched him and took off his skin.</p>
+
+<p>When his brothers Fafner and Reginn saw what had been done, they reproved
+Loki severely, and demanded of him that he should fill the otter&rsquo;s skin
+with gold, and give it to them as an atonement for his great misdeed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I return the otter skin and give you the treasure you ask,&rdquo; said Loki;
+&ldquo;but the gift shall bring you evil.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Their father took the treasure, and Fafner murdered his father to secure it
+to himself, and then turned into a dragon or serpent to guard it, and to keep his
+brother from finding it.</p>
+
+<p>Reginn had a wonderful pupil, named Siegfried, a Samson among the inhabitants
+of the land. He was so strong that he could catch wild lions and hang
+them by the tail over the walls of the castle. Reginn persuaded this pupil to
+attack the serpent and to slay him.</p>
+
+<p>Now Siegfried could understand the songs of birds; and the birds told him
+that Reginn intended to kill him; so he slew Reginn and himself possessed the
+treasure.</p>
+
+<p>Serpents and dragons were called <em>worms</em> in Old Deutsch, and the Germans
+called the town where Siegfried lived Worms.</p>
+
+<p>Siegfried had bathed himself in the dragon&rsquo;s blood, and the bath made his
+skin so hard that nothing could hurt him except in one spot. A leaf had fallen
+on this spot as he was bathing. It was between his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Siegfried, like Samson, had a curious wife. His romances growing out of his
+love for this woman would fill a volume. She had learned where his one vulnerable
+spot lay. But she was a lovely lady, and the wedded pair lived very happily
+together at Worms.</p>
+
+<p>At last a dispute arose between them and their relatives, and the latter
+sought to destroy Siegfried&rsquo;s life. His wife went for counsel to a supposed
+friend, but real enemy, named Hagen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Your husband is invulnerable,&rdquo; said Hagen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, except in one spot.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
+&ldquo;And you know the place?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sew a patch on his garment over it, and I shall know how to protect
+him.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The poor wife had revealed a fatal secret. She sewed a patch on her husband&rsquo;s
+garment between the shoulders, and now thought him doubly secure.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_murder_of_siegfried" id="the_murder_of_siegfried"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl063.jpg" width="500" height="377" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE MURDER OF SIEGFRIED.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>There was to be a great hunting-match, and Siegfried entered into it as a
+champion. He rode forth in high spirits, but on his back was the fatal patch.</p>
+
+<p>Hagen contrived that the wine should be left behind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;will compel the hunters to lie down on their breasts to
+drink from the streams when they become thirsty. Then will come my opportunity.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was right in his conjecture.</p>
+
+<p>Siegfried became tired and thirsty. He rode up to a stream. He threw
+himself on his breast to drink, exposing his back, on which was the patch, revealing
+the vulnerable place.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
+There he was stabbed by a conspirator employed by Hagen.</p>
+
+<p>They bore the dead body of the hero down the Rhine, and lamented the departed
+champion as the barque drifted on. The scene has been portrayed in art
+and song, and has left its impress on the poetic associations of the river. You
+will have occasion to recall this story again in connection with Drachenfels.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Our fifth night on the Rhine was passed at Mayence, at the H&ocirc;tel
+de Hollande, near the landing-place of the Rhine steamers. The
+balconies and windows of the hotel afforded fine views of the river
+and of the Taunus Mountains.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Mayence is said to have arisen by magic. The sorcerer Nequam
+wished for a new city; he came to this point of the Rhine, spoke the
+word, and the city rose. It is almost as old as the Christian era.
+Here the Twenty-second Roman legion came, after its return from
+the conquest of Jerusalem, and brought Christianity with it, through
+some of its early converts. It was one of the grand cities of Charlemagne,
+who erected a palace at Lower Ingelheim, and introduced the
+cultivation of the vine. Here lived Bishop Hatto, of bad repute, and
+good Bishop Williges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here rose Gutenberg, the inventor of printing, and here Thorwaldsen&rsquo;s
+statue of the great inventor announces to the traveller what
+a great light of civilization appeared to the world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At Mayence we began the most delightful zigzag we had ever
+made,&mdash;a boat journey on the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;If you would see the Rhine of castles and vineyards.&rsquo; said an
+English friend, &lsquo;hire a boat. The most famous river scenery in the
+world lies between Mayence and Cologne. If you take the railroad
+you will merely <em>escape</em> it in a few hours; if a steamboat, your curiosity
+will be excited, but not gratified; it will all vanish like a dream: take
+a boat, my good American friend,&mdash;take a boat.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Between Mayence and Bingen the Rhine attains its greatest
+breadth. It is studded with a hundred islands. Its banks are
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
+continuous vineyards. Here is the famous district called the Rheingau,
+which extends along the right bank of the river, where the Rhine
+wines are produced.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 343px;">
+<a name="mayence" id="mayence"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl064.jpg" width="343" height="500"
+alt="Large buildings, with a statue outside" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MAYENCE.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
+&ldquo;It is all a luxurious wine-garden,&mdash;the Rheingau. The grapes
+purple beside ruins and convents, as well as on their low artificial
+trellises, and everywhere drink in the sunshine and grow luscious in
+the mellow air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Castles, palaces, ruins, towers, and quaint towns all mingle with
+the vineyards. A dreamy light hangs over the scene; the river is
+calm, and the boat drifts along in an atmosphere in which the spirit
+of romance seems to brood, as though indeed the world&rsquo;s fairy tales
+were true.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We came in sight of Bingen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;We must stop there,&rsquo; said Willie Clifton.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Why?&rsquo; I asked curiously.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Because&mdash;well&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;For I was born at Bingen,&mdash;at Bingen on the Rhine.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He then repeated slowly and in a deep, tender voice the beginning
+of a poem that almost every schoolboy knows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There was lack of woman&rsquo;s nursing, there was dearth of woman&rsquo;s tears;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dying soldier faltered, as he took that comrade&rsquo;s hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he said, &ldquo;I nevermore shall see my own, my native land:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take a message and a token to some distant friends of mine;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For I was born at Bingen,&mdash;at Bingen on the Rhine.&rdquo;&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bingen is a town of about seven thousand inhabitants, and is engaged
+in the wine trade. We visited the chapel of St. Rochus, on a
+hill near the town, because one of our party had somewhere read that
+Bulwer had said that the view from St. Rochus was the finest in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Again upon the river, all the banks seemed filled with castles,
+villages, and ruins. Every hill had its castle, every crag its gray tower.
+We drifted by the famous Mouse Tower, which stands at the end of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>
+an island meadow fringed with osier twigs. It is little better than a
+square tower of a common village church,
+nor is there any truth in the story that
+Southey&rsquo;s poem has associated with it.
+Poor Bishop Hatto, of evil name and
+memory! He died in 970, and the tower
+was not built until the thirteenth century.
+For aught that is known, he
+was a good man; he certainly was
+not eaten up by rats or mice. The legend
+runs:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 364px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="bishop_hatto_and_the_rats" id="bishop_hatto_and_the_rats"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl065.jpg" width="364" height="500"
+alt="Bishop Hatto and the rats" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the tenth century Hatto, Bishop
+of Fulda, was raised to the dignity of Archbishop
+of Mayence. He built a strong tower on
+the Rhine, wherein to collect tolls from the vessels
+that passed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A famine came to the Rhine countries. Hatto
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
+had vast granaries, and the people came to him for bread. He refused
+them, and they importuned him. He bade them go into a large granary,
+one day, promising them relief. When they had entered the
+building, he barred the doors and set it on fire, and the famishing
+beggars, among whom were many women and children, were consumed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The bishop listened to the cries of the dying for mercy as the
+building was burning.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Hark!&rsquo; he said, &lsquo;hear the rats squeak.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When the building fell millions of rats ran from the ruins to the
+bishop&rsquo;s palace. They filled all the rooms and attacked the people.
+The bishop was struck with terror.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll go to my tower on the Rhine,&rdquo; replied he;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis the safest place in Germany:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The walls are high, and the shores are steep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the stream is strong, and the water deep.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Bishop Hatto fearfully hastened away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he crossed the Rhine without delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reached his tower, and barred with care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All windows, doors, and loopholes there.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;He laid him down and closed his eyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But soon a scream made him arise:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He started, and saw two eyes of flame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On his pillow, from whence the screaming came.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;He listened and looked; it was only the cat:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the bishop he grew more fearful for that;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For she sat screaming, mad with fear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At the army of rats that were drawing near.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;For they have swam over the river so deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And they have climbed the shores so steep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And up the tower their way is bent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To do the work for which they were sent.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;They are not to be told by the dozen or score;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By thousands they come, and by myriads and more:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such numbers had never been heard of before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such a judgment had never been witnessed of yore.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;Down on his knees the bishop fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And faster and faster his beads did tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As, louder and louder drawing near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gnawing of their teeth he could hear.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;And in at the windows, and in at the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the walls, helter-skelter they pour,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the right and the left, from behind and before,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From within and without, from above and below,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all at once to the bishop they go.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;They have whetted their teeth against the stones;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now they pick the bishop&rsquo;s bones:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They gnawed the flesh from every limb;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they were sent to do judgment on him!&rsquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We passed ruin after ruin which the boatman said were &lsquo;robber
+castles.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;And what do you mean by <em>robber</em> castles?&rsquo; asked Herman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The old lords of the Rhine used to collect tolls from the vessels
+that passed their estates. The tax was regarded as unjust, and hence
+the lords were themselves called robbers, and their castles robber
+castles.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One of these castles, called the <i>Pfalzgrafenstein</i>, is said to resemble
+a stone ship at anchor in the river. It was formerly a rock, with one
+little hut upon it, and it was associated with a touching incident of
+history.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Louis le Debonnaire, the son of Charlemagne, became weary of
+state-craft and the crown. He felt that his end was near. He desired
+to die where he could hear the waves of the Rhine. He was taken to
+this rock, and there with the ebb of the river his troubled life ebbed
+away.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Most of the old castles are built on the narrows of the river. These
+narrows are between high rocks and rocky hills. They are in the
+Middle Rhine, or between Mayence and Bonn. The Middle Rhine
+has some thirty conspicuous castles on its banks. It is sometimes
+called the Castellated Rhine, and its narrows are termed the Castellated
+Rhine Pass.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="view_on_the_rhine" id="view_on_the_rhine"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl066.jpg" width="500" height="288" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">VIEW ON THE RHINE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On, on we drifted. Every high rock seemed a gateway to some
+new scene of beauty; wonder followed wonder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now the water seemed agitated. Dark rocks projected into
+the river; the view was intercepted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The boatman conversed in an animated way with me, and I looked
+up to a high rock with an interested expression and an incredulous
+smile.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He turned to us quietly and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;This is the Lorelei Pass.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;He presently added,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;That is the Lorelei.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 439px;">
+<a name="the_lorelei" id="the_lorelei"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl067.jpg" width="439" height="600"
+alt="The Lorelei sits on a rock, combing her hair" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE LORELEI.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE WONDERFUL STORY OF THE LORELEI.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Who has not heard it, repeated it in verse, echoed it in song?</p>
+
+<p>It is the best known of the Rhine tales, not because it is the most interesting,
+but because it is associated with the noblest scenery of the river, with
+poetry and music. It is hardly equal to such legends as the &ldquo;Drachenfels&rdquo;
+and the &ldquo;Two Brothers,&rdquo; but it is lifted into historic prominence by its
+associations.</p>
+
+<p>Still the story is richer in incident than the mere song would indicate. The
+origin and development of the popular legend is as follows:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>In the shadowy days of the Palatines of the Rhine,&mdash;shadowy because of
+ignorance and superstition,&mdash;the boatmen among the rocks above St. Goar on
+the Rhine used to fancy that they could see at night the form of a beautiful
+nymph on the &ldquo;Lei,&rdquo; or high rock of the river. Her limbs were moulded of
+air; a veil of mist and gems covered her face; her hair was long and golden,
+and her eyes shone like the stars. Her robe was blue and glimmering like
+the waves, decked with water flowers and zoned with crystals. She was most
+distinctly seen by pale moonlight.</p>
+
+<p>They called this recurring vision of mist and gems Lore, the enchantress.
+They believed that her favor brought good luck, but her ill will destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing could be more natural than for the simple fishermen to think that
+they saw a form of mist, very bright and lovely, above the rocks at night, when
+once the story had been told them.</p>
+
+<p>In the days of superstition such a story was sure to grow.</p>
+
+<p>It was said that this Undine of the Rhine, the enchantress Lore, had a most
+melodious and seductive voice. When she sang those who heard her listened
+spellbound. If the boatmen displeased her, she entranced them by her song,
+and drew them into the whirlpools under the rocks, where they disappeared forever.
+To the landsmen who offended her, she made the river appear like a road,
+and led them to fall over the rocks to destruction. With all her beauty and
+charms, she was the evil genius of the place.</p>
+
+<p>Herman, the only son of the last Palatine, a youth of some fifteen summers,
+was delicate in health. Instead of devoting himself to chivalrous exercises, he
+gave his attention to music and song.</p>
+
+<p>One night he and his father were descending the Rhine, when he felt an
+inspiration come over him to sing. His voice was silvery and flute-like, and
+breathed the emotional sentiment of the heart of youth. As the boat drew
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
+near the Lei, Lore, the enchantress, heard the song, and she herself became
+spellbound by the sentiment and deep feeling expressed in the mellifluent
+music.</p>
+
+<p>She tried to answer him, but her voice failed.</p>
+
+<p>As Herman grew to manhood his ill health disappeared, and his character
+changed. He became rugged and manly, and abandoned the arts for the chase,
+horsemanship, and the preparations for martial contests.</p>
+
+<p>He became a renowned hunter. He rode the wildest steeds, and ventured
+into places and merrily blew his horn where no huntsman dared follow him.</p>
+
+<p>The enchantress Lore, from the time she had heard his song, disappeared
+from the rocks. The change that came over his person and character seemed
+like enchantment: was the siren invisibly following him?</p>
+
+<p>And now a strange thing began to startle him by its mystery. When alone,
+crossing a wild mountain or a ravine, he would seek to keep up a communication
+by shouting through his hands,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hillo-ho-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Immediately a sweet voice would answer,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ho-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He would follow the sound.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hillo-ho-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ho-o-o-o!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It always led him towards the Lei.</p>
+
+<p>He became alarmed at this occurrence. He believed that he was followed
+by a spirit, and that a spell was upon him, which boded destruction. He
+resolved to abandon the chase and devote himself to the arts again.</p>
+
+<p>He was sitting by the window of the castle on a summer evening. A purple
+mist lay on the forests and river, and the moon poured her light over it,
+making all things appear like an enchanted realm.</p>
+
+<p>He heard a nightingale singing in the woods. Did ever a bird sing like
+that? He listened. There was a witchery in the song. He rose and went
+into the woods. The song filled the air like a shower of golden notes. He
+followed it. It retreated. He went on. But the song, more and more enchanting
+and alluring, floated into the shadowy distance. He found himself at last
+on the Lei.</p>
+
+<p>He beheld there a dazzling grotto, full of stalactites, and a nymph of wondrous
+beauty on a coral throne. He felt his being thrill with love. He was
+about to enter the grotto, when, oh thought of darkness and horror! the
+recollection of the enchantress came to him, and he crossed his bosom and
+broke the spell. He hurried home with a beating heart.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
+But the temptation and vision had proved fatal to
+him. He was never himself again. He dreamed
+constantly of Lore. All his longings were for her.</p>
+
+<p>At eve he would hear the same nightingale
+singing. He would long to follow the voice. It
+inflamed his love. His will, his senses, all that
+made life desirable, were yielding to the fatal passion.</p>
+
+<p>He went to a good priest for advice.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Father Walter, what shall I do?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Shake off the spell, or it will end in
+your ruin.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>One day Herman and the priest
+went fishing on the Rhine. The
+boat drifted near the Lei. The
+moon rose in full splendor in the clear sky, strewing
+the water with countless gems.</p>
+
+<p>Herman took a lute and filled the air with music.</p>
+
+<p>It was answered from the Lei. Oh, how wonderful!
+The air seemed entranced with the spiritual
+melody. Herman was beside himself
+with delight. The priest also heard it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Lore! In the name of the
+Virgin, let us make for the shore!&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 401px; padding-bottom: 2em;">
+<a name="hermans_eyes_were_fixed_on_the_rock" id="hermans_eyes_were_fixed_on_the_rock"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl068.jpg" width="401" height="600"
+alt="Herman&#39;s eyes were fixed on the rock" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Herman&rsquo;s eyes were
+fixed on the rock. There
+she sat, the siren!</p>
+
+<p>The priest plied the
+oar, to turn the boat
+back.</p>
+
+<p>But nearer, nearer
+drifted the boat to the
+rock.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer!</p>
+
+<p>The moon poured
+her white light upon the
+crags.</p>
+
+<p>Nearer and nearer!</p>
+
+<p>There was a shock.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span>
+The boat was shivered like glass.</p>
+
+<p>Walter crossed himself, and floated on the waves to the shore.</p>
+
+<p>But Herman&mdash;he was never seen again!</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal&rsquo;s narrative nearly filled the evening. A few stories
+were told by other members of the Club, but they were chiefly
+from Grimm, and hence are somewhat familiar.</p>
+
+<p>Charlie Leland closed the meeting with a free translation of a
+poem from Kerner.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p class="hrpadt">Justinus Kerner was born in Ludwigsburg, in 1786. He was a physician
+and a poet. He belonged to the spiritualistic school of poets, and his illustrations
+of the power of mind over matter, in both prose and poetry, are often
+very forcible. The following poem will give you a view of his estimate of
+physical as compared with mental power:&mdash;</p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">IN THE OLD CATHEDRAL.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In the vaults of the dim cathedral,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the gloaming, weird and cold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are the coffins of old King Ottmar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And a poet, renowned of old.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The king once sat in power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Enthroned in pomp and pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And his crown still rests upon him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And his falchion rusts beside.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And near to the king the poet<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has slumbered in darkness long,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he holds in his hands, as an emblem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The harp of immortal song.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark! &rsquo;tis the castles falling!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hark! &rsquo;tis the war-cry dread!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the monarch&rsquo;s sword is not lifted,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There, in the vaults of the dead!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">List to the vernal breezes!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">List to the minstrels&rsquo; strain!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis the poet&rsquo;s song they are singing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the poet lives again.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>NIGHT THE SIXTH.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Beautiful Rhine.&mdash;Coblentz.&mdash;A Zigzag to Weimar.&mdash;Goethe and Schiller.&mdash;The
+Strange Story of Faust.&mdash;Faust in Art.&mdash;The Seven Mountains.&mdash;The
+Drachenfels.&mdash;The Story of the Dragon.&mdash;Stories of Frederick
+the Great.&mdash;The Unnerved Hussar.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapm"><span class="dropcap">M</span></span>R. BEAL occupied much of the time this evening.
+He thus continued the narrative of travel:&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;From St. Goar to Boppard, two stations at
+which the Rhine boats call, is about an hour&rsquo;s
+run; but the journey is an unfailing memory.
+The rocky walls of the river, the continuous villages, the quaint
+churches amid the vineyards and cherry orchards, the mossy meadows
+about the mountains, the white-kerchiefed villagers, present so many
+varied and delightful objects, that the eye feasts on beauty, and wonders
+expectantly at what the next turn of the river will reveal. The
+rock shadows in the water contrast with the bright scenes above the
+river, and add an impression of grandeur to the effect of the whole,
+like shadows on the cathedral walls that heighten the effect of the
+rose-colored windows. Beautiful, beautiful, is the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Grand castles, perched on high cliffs and mountain walls, surprise
+us, delight us, and vanish behind us, as the boat moves on;&mdash;the
+Brother Castles, Marksburg, the mountain palace Solzenfels, with
+their lofty, gloomy, and barbaric grandeur, reminding one always of
+times whose loss the mind does not regret.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And now a beautiful city comes in view, nestled at the foot of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
+hills, and protected by a stupendous fortress on the opposite side of
+the river. The fortress is Ehrenbreitstein, the Gibraltar of the Rhine,
+capable of holding an army of men. It is a great arsenal now, well
+garrisoned in peace as in war; in short, it may be called the watch
+on the Rhine.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="ehrenbreitstein" id="ehrenbreitstein"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl069.jpg" width="500" height="384"
+alt="The fortress on the hillside over the river" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">EHRENBREITSTEIN.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The lovely city under its guns, on the opposite side of the river,
+is Coblentz. It is a gusset of houses, a V-shaped city, at the confluence
+of the Rhine and Moselle. The Romans called it the city
+of the Confluence, or Confluentia; hence, corrupted, it is known as
+Coblentz.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 434px;">
+<a name="goethes_promenade" id="goethes_promenade"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl070.jpg" width="434" height="600"
+alt="Steps wind up between a rock wall and trees" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GOETHE&rsquo;S PROMENADE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is the half-way city between Cologne and Mayence, and a favorite
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
+resting place of tourists. The summer residence of the King of
+Germany is here.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From Coblentz we made a d&eacute;tour into the heart of Germany,
+going by rail to Weimar, once called the Athens of the North. It
+was once the literary centre of Germany. Here lived Goethe, Schiller,
+Wieland, and Herder. What the English Lake District, in the
+days of Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, Christopher North, and
+De Quincey was once to England, what Cambridge and Concord
+have been to America in the best days of its authors and poets,
+Weimar was to Germany at the beginning of the present century.
+We went there to visit the tombs and statues of Goethe, and
+to gain a better knowledge of the works of these poets from the
+associations of their composition.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Weimar is a quaint provincial-looking town on the river Ilm. It
+has some sixteen thousand inhabitants, and is the residence of the
+Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar. The grounds of the palace are wonderfully
+beautiful. They extend along the river, and communicate
+with a summer palace called Belvedere.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the tombs of the two great poets. They are found
+beneath a small chapel in the Grand Ducal burial vault. The Grand
+Duke Charles Augustus desired that the bodies of the two poets
+should be interred one on each side of him: but this was forbidden
+by the usages of the court.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the old Stadtkirche, built in 1400, are the tombs of the ancient
+dukes, now forgotten. Among them is that of Duke Bernard, who
+died in 1639. He was the friend of Gustavus Adolphus, and one of
+the most powerful of the leaders of the Reformation.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Goethe, the most gifted of the German poets, and the most accomplished
+man of his age, was born at Frankfort-on-the-Main, in 1749.
+In 1775 he made the intimate acquaintance of Charles Augustus,
+Grand Duke of Saxe-Weimar, who induced him to take up his residence
+at Weimar, the capital. Here he held many public offices, and
+at last became minister of state. He died at the age of eighty-four.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Goethe&rsquo;s most popular work is a novel called <i>The Sorrows of
+Werther</i>, but his great and enduring work is <i>Faust</i>, a dramatic poem,
+in which his great genius struggles with the problems of good and evil.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His life was full of beautiful friendships. In 1787 Schiller, the
+second in rank of great German poets, was invited to reside at Weimar.
+Goethe became most warmly attached to him, and the two
+pursued their high literary callings together. The literary circle now
+consisted of Goethe, Schiller, Wieland, Herder, and the Grand Duke.
+It was the golden age of German literature.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STRANGE STORY OF FAUST.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>No myth of the Middle Ages has had so large a growth and so long a life
+as this.</p>
+
+<p>It has been made the subject of books, pamphlets, and articles almost without
+number. The Faust literature in Germany would fill a library.</p>
+
+<p>In painting, especially of the Holland school, the dark subject as prominently
+appears. It is also embodied in sculpture.</p>
+
+<p>But it is in poetry and music that it found a place that carried it over the
+world. It was made the subject of Marlowe&rsquo;s drama, of Goethe&rsquo;s greatest poem,
+and it is sung in three of the greatest operas of modern times.</p>
+
+<p>But to the legend.</p>
+
+<p>About the year 1490 there was born at Roda, in the Duchy of Saxe-Weimar,
+a child whose fame was destined to fill the world of superstition, fable,
+and song. He was named John Faustus, or Faust.</p>
+
+<p>He studied medicine, became an alchemist, and was possessed with a consuming
+desire to learn the secrets of life and of the spiritual world.</p>
+
+<p>He studied magic, and his thirst for knowledge of the occult sciences grew.
+He wished to know how to prolong life, to change base metals to gold, to do
+things at once by the power of the will.</p>
+
+<p>One night, as he was studying, the Evil One appeared before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will reveal to you all the secrets you are seeking, and will enable you to
+do anything you wish by the power of the will alone&mdash;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Faustus was filled with an almost insane delight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&mdash;On one condition.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
+&ldquo;That I shall have your soul in return.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;When?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At the end of twenty-four years&mdash;at this time of night&mdash;midnight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall have pleasure?&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="faust_signing" id="faust_signing"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl071.jpg" width="500" height="439" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">FAUST SIGNING.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;Pleasure.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gold?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Gold.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall know the secrets of nature?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The secrets of nature.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I may do what I like at will?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I will sign the compact.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sign!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Faust signed his name to a compact that was to give the Evil One his soul
+for twenty-four years of pleasure, gold, and
+knowledge, that were to come to an end at
+midnight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will give you an attendant,&rdquo; said
+the Evil One, &ldquo;to help you.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He caused a dark but very elegant
+gentleman to appear, whom he presented
+to Faust as Mephistopheles.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Faustus and Mephistopheles
+now began
+to travel into all lands, performing
+wonders to the
+amazement of all people
+wherever they went.</p>
+
+<p>In a wine-cellar at
+Leipsig, where he and Mephistopheles
+were drinking,
+some gay fellows said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Faust,
+make grapes
+grow on a vine on this
+table.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be silent.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There was dead silence.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 479px;">
+<a name="faust_and_mephistopheles" id="faust_and_mephistopheles"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl072.jpg" width="479" height="500"
+alt="Faust and Mephistopheles fly out of the window" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">FAUST AND MEPHISTOPHELES.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>A vine began to grow
+from the table, and presently
+it bore a bunch of grapes for each of the revellers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Take your knives and cut a cluster for each.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>
+There was an explosion. Faust and Mephistopheles were seen flying out
+of the window; the <em>window</em> is still shown in Leipsig. The vine had disappeared,
+and each of the revellers found himself with his knife over his nose,
+about to cut it off, supposing it to be a cluster of grapes.</p>
+
+<p>The wonders that it is claimed that Dr. Faustus did in the twenty-four
+years fill volumes. The Faust marvels have gathered to themselves the fables
+of centuries.</p>
+
+<p>The twenty-four years came to an end at last. Faust became gloomy, and
+retired to Rimlich, at the inn, among his old friends.</p>
+
+<p>The fatal night came.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Should you hear noises in my chamber to-night, do not disturb me,&rdquo; he
+said, on parting from his companions to go to his room.</p>
+
+<p>Near midnight a tempest arose,&mdash;a wild, strange tempest. The winds were
+like demons. It thundered and the air was full of tongues of lightning.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight there was heard a fearful shriek in Faust&rsquo;s chamber.</p>
+
+<p>The next morning the room was found bespattered with blood, and the
+body of Faust was missing. The broken remains of the alchemist were discovered
+at last in a back yard on a heap of earth.</p>
+
+<p>This was the village story. It grew as such a dark myth would grow in
+the superstitious times in which it started. Goethe created the character of
+Marguerite and added it to the fable. The transformation of Faust from
+extreme old age to youth was also added. The opera makers have greatly
+enlarged even the narrative of Goethe; in the latest evolution, Mephistopheles
+is summoned into the courts of heaven and sent forth to tempt Faust, and
+Faust is shown visions of the Greek vale of Tempe and Helen of Troy.</p>
+
+<p>Faust has come to be a synonym of the great problem of Good and Evil;
+the contest between virtue and vice, temptation and ruin, temptation and
+moral triumph. It is not a good story in any of its evolutions, but it is one
+that to know is almost essential to intelligence.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Returning to Coblentz, we passed our sixth night on the Rhine.
+We there hired a boatman to take us to Bonn. Between Coblentz
+and Andernach we passed what are termed the Rhine Plains. These
+are some ten miles long, and are semicircled by volcanic mountains,
+whose fires have long been dead.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We now approached the Seven Mountains, among which is the
+Drachenfels, famous in fable and song. These are called: Lohrberg,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
+1,355 feet; Neiderstromberg, 1,066 feet; Oelberg, 1,429 feet; Wolkenberg,
+1,001 feet; Drachenfels, 1,056 feet; Petenberg, 1,030 feet; Lowenberg,
+1,414 feet.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Drachenfels is made picturesque by an ancient ruin, and it
+is these ancient ruins, and associations of old history, that make the
+Rhine the most interesting river in the world. Apart from its castles
+and traditions, it is not more beautiful than the Hudson, the Upper
+Ohio, or the Mississippi between St. Paul and Winona. But the
+Rhine displays the ruined arts of two thousand years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Drachenfels has its wonderful story. It is said that Siegfried
+killed the Dragon there. The so-called Dragon Cave or Rock
+is there, and of this particular dragon many curious tales are told.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the early days of Christianity the cross was regarded as something
+more than a mere emblem of faith. It was believed to possess
+miracle-working power.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In a rocky cavern of the Drachenfels, in ancient times, there lived
+a Dragon of most hideous form. He had a hundred teeth, and his
+head was so large that he could swallow several victims at a time.
+His body was of enormous length, and in form like an alligator&rsquo;s, and
+he had a tail like a serpent.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The pagans of the Rhine worshipped this monster and offered to
+him human sacrifices.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In one of the old wars between rival princes, a Christian girl was
+taken captive, and the pagan priest commanded that she should be
+made an offering to the Dragon.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the custom of the pagans to bind their sacrifices to the
+Dragon alive to a tree near his cave at night. At sunrise he would
+come out and devour them.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They led the lovely Christian maiden to a spot near the cave, and
+bound her to a tree.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was starlight. Priests and warriors with torches had conducted
+the maiden to the fatal spot, and stood at a little distance from the
+victim, waiting for the sunrise.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 437px;">
+<a name="a_cleft_in_the_mountains" id="a_cleft_in_the_mountains"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl073.jpg" width="437" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A CLEFT IN THE MOUNTAINS.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The priests chanted their wild hymns, and the light at last began
+to break and to crown the mountains and be scattered over the blue
+river.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The roar of the monster was heard. The rocks trembled, and he
+appeared. He approached the maiden, bound to an oak.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Her eyes were raised in prayer towards heaven.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As the Dragon approached the victim, she drew from her bosom
+a crucifix, and held it up before him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;As soon as he saw it, he began to tremble. He fell to the earth
+as if smitten. He lost all power and rolled down the rocks, a shapeless
+mass, into the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The pagans released the girl.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;By what power have you done this?&rsquo; they asked.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;By this,&rsquo; said the maiden, stretching out the cross in her hand.
+&lsquo;I am a Christian.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Then we will become Christians,&rsquo; said the pagans, and they led
+the lovely apostle away to be their teacher. Her first convert was one
+of the rival princes, whom she married. Their descendants were
+among the most eminent of the early Christian families of the Seven
+Mountains of the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Such is the fable as told by the monks of old. The figure of the
+power of the cross over the serpent, employed in early Christian writings,
+undoubtedly was its origin, but how it became associated with
+the story of the captive maiden it would be hard to tell.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Master Lewis introduced the story-telling of the evening by anecdote
+pictures of</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">FREDERICK THE GREAT.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, was born in 1712. He was a wilful
+youth, and his father subjected him to such severe discipline that he revolted
+against it, and, like other boys not of royal blood, formed a plan of running away
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
+from home. His father discovered the plot, and caused his son&rsquo;s most intimate
+friend, who had assisted him in it, to be put to death, and made the execution
+as terrible as possible. He early came to hate his father, his father&rsquo;s religion,
+and everything that the old king most liked. His father was indeed a hard,
+stern man, of colorless character; but he managed the affairs of state so prudently
+that he left his undutiful son a powerful army and a full treasury, and to
+these as much as to any noble qualities of mind or soul the latter owed the resources
+by which he gained the title <span class="smcap">The Great</span>.</p>
+
+<p>His mother was a daughter of George I. Frederick loved her, and from her he
+inherited a taste for music and literature, like many of the family of the Georges.
+He formed an intimate friendship with Voltaire, the French infidel writer, and
+interested himself in the French infidelity of the period, which was a reaction
+against the corrupt and degenerate French church.</p>
+
+<p>He entered the field as a soldier in 1741, and was victorious again and again
+in the two Silesian wars. The Seven Years&rsquo; War, begun in 1756, gained for him
+a position of great influence among the rulers of Europe. He was prudent, like
+his father; his government was wise, well ordered, and liberal, and he left to his
+successor a full treasury, a great and famous army, enlarged territory, and the
+prestige of a great name.</p>
+
+<p>The family affairs of kings during the last century were in rather a queer
+state, as the following story of Frederick&rsquo;s marriage will show.</p>
+
+<p>The prince was told that his father was studying the characters of the young
+ladies of the courts of Europe in order to select a suitable wife for him. He
+admired talent, brilliancy, wit, and he said in substance to the Minister of
+State,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Influence my father if you can to obtain for me a gifted and elegant princess.
+Of all things in the world I would hate to have a dull and commonplace
+wife.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His father made choice of the Princess Elizabeth Christine of Brunswick, a
+girl famous for her awkwardness and stupidity.</p>
+
+<p>The prince did everything in his power to prevent the marriage. But the
+old king declared that he should marry her, and the wedding ceremony was
+arranged, Frederick in the mean time protesting that he held the bride in utter
+detestation.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick had a sister whom he dearly loved, Wilhelmina. Two days after
+his marriage, he introduced the bride to her, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This is a sister whom I adore. She has had the goodness to promise that
+<em>she</em> will take care of you and give you good advice. I wish you to do nothing
+without her consent. Do you understand?&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 412px;">
+<a name="voltaire" id="voltaire"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl074.jpg" width="412" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">VOLTAIRE.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
+The young bride, scarcely eighteen, was speechless. She expected &ldquo;care&rdquo;
+and &ldquo;advice&rdquo; from her husband, and not from his sister.</p>
+
+<p>Wilhelmina embraced her tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick waited for an answer to his question. But she stood dumb.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Plague take the <em>blockhead</em>!&rdquo; he at last exclaimed, and with this compliment
+began the long and sorrowful story of her wedded life.</p>
+
+<p>She was a good woman and bore her husband&rsquo;s neglect with patience.
+Strangely enough, in his old age Frederick came to love her; for he discovered,
+after a prejudice of years, that she had a noble soul.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick died in 1786. In his will he made a most liberal allowance for his
+wife, and bore testimony to her excellent character, saying that she never had
+caused him the least discontent, and her incorruptible virtue was worthy of love
+and consideration.</p>
+
+<p>She survived the king eleven years.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Willie Clifton related a true story.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE UNNERVED HUSSAR.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>A man once entered the vaults of a church by night, to rob a corpse of a
+valuable ring. In replacing the lid he nailed the tail of his coat to the coffin,
+and when he started up to leave, the coffin clung to him and moved towards
+him.</p>
+
+<p>Supposing the movement to be the work of invisible hands, his nervous
+system received such a shock that he fell in a fit, and was found where he fell,
+by the sexton, on the following morning.</p>
+
+<p>Now, had the fellow been honestly engaged, it is not likely that the blunder
+would have happened; and even had it occurred, he doubtless would have discovered
+at once the cause.</p>
+
+<p>But very worthy people are sometimes affected by superstitious fear, and run
+counter to the dictates of good sense and sound judgment.</p>
+
+<p>A magnificent banquet was once given by a lord, in a very ancient castle, on
+the confines of Germany. Among the guests was an officer of hussars, distinguished
+for great self-possession and bravery.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the guests were to remain in the castle during the night; and the
+gallant hussar was informed that one of them must occupy a room reputed to be
+haunted, and was asked if he had any objections to accepting the room for
+himself.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
+He declared that he had none whatever, and thanked his host for the honor
+conferred upon him by the offer. He, however, expressed a wish that no trick
+might be played upon him, saying that such an act might be followed by very
+serious consequences, as he should use his pistols against whatever disturbed
+the peace of the room.</p>
+
+<p>He retired after midnight, leaving his lamp burning; and, wearied by the
+festivities, soon fell asleep. He was presently awakened by the sound of music,
+and, looking about the apartment, saw at the opposite end, three phantom ladies,
+grotesquely attired, singing a mournful dirge.</p>
+
+<p>The music was artistic, rich, and soothing, and the hussar listened for a time,
+highly entertained. The piece was one of unvarying
+sadness, and, however seductive at first, after a time
+lost its charm.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_unnerved_hussar" id="the_unnerved_hussar"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl075.jpg" width="500" height="350"
+alt="The hussar points his pistol at the mysterious women" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE UNNERVED HUSSAR.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The officer, addressing the musical damsels, remarked that the music had
+become rather monotonous, and asked them to change the tune. The singing
+continued in the same mournful cadences. He became impatient, and exclaimed,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ladies, this is an impertinent trick, for the purpose of frightening me. I
+shall take rough means to stop it, if it gives me any further trouble.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
+He seized his pistols in a manner that indicated his purpose. But the mysterious
+ladies remained, and the requiem went on.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ladies,&rdquo; said the officer, &ldquo;I will wait five minutes, and then shall fire, unless
+you leave the room.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The figures remained, and the music continued. At the expiration of the
+time, the officer counted twenty in a loud, measured voice, and then, taking
+deliberate aim, discharged both of his pistols.</p>
+
+<p>The ladies were unharmed, and the music was uninterrupted. The unexpected
+result of his violence threw him into a state of high nervous excitement,
+and, although his courage had withstood the shock of battle, it now yielded to
+his superstitious fears. His strength was prostrated, and a severe illness of some
+weeks&rsquo; continuance followed.</p>
+
+<p>Had the hussar held stoutly to his own sensible philosophy, that he had no
+occasion to fear the spirits of the invisible world, nothing serious would have
+ensued. The damsels sung in another apartment, and their figures were made
+to appear in the room occupied by the hussar, by the effect of a mirror. The
+whole was a trick, carefully planned, to test the effect of superstitious fear on
+one of the bravest of men.</p>
+
+<p>In no case should a person be alarmed at what he suspects to be supernatural.
+A cool investigation will show, in most cases, that the supposed
+phenomenon may be easily explained. It might prove a serious thing for one to
+be frightened by a nightcap on a bedpost, for a fright affects unfavorably the
+nervous system, but a nightcap on a bedpost is in itself a very harmless thing.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The sixth evening closed with an original poem by Mr. Beal.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>COLOGNE.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Bonn.&mdash;Holy Cologne.&mdash;The Story of the Mysterious Architect.&mdash;&ldquo;Unfinished
+and Unknown.&rdquo;&mdash;Visit to Cologne Cathedral.&mdash;The Tomb of the Magi.&mdash;The
+Church of Skulls.&mdash;Queer Relics.&mdash;The Story and Legend of Charlemagne.&mdash;The
+Story and Legend of Barbarossa.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapw"><span class="dropcap">W</span></span>E emerged from the majestic circle of the Seven
+Mountains, the most beautiful part of the Rhine
+scenery, and broad plains again met our view.
+The river ran smoothly, the Middle Rhine was
+passed, Bonn was in view, and there we dismissed
+our boatman.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We stopped in Bonn only a short time. We went to the Market-place
+and walked past the University, which was once a palace.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We took the train at Bonn for Cologne, in order to pass rapidly
+over a part of the Rhine scenery said to be comparatively uninteresting.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Holy Cologne!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Rome of the Northern Empire! The ecclesiastical capital
+of the ancient German church!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The unfinished cathedral towers over the city like a mountain.
+&lsquo;Unfinished?&rsquo; Everything has a legend here, and a marvellous one,
+and the unfinished cathedral stands like a witness to such a tale.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 406px;">
+<a name="cathedral_of_cologne" id="cathedral_of_cologne"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl076.jpg" width="406" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CATHEDRAL OF COLOGNE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Above Cologne the river runs broad, a blue-green mirror amid
+dumpy willows and lanky poplars, and the windmills on its banks
+throw their arms about like giants at play. The steamers swarm in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
+the bright waters; at evening their lights are like will-o&rsquo;-the-wisps.
+The long bridge of boats opens; a steamer passes, followed by a crowd
+of boats; it closes, and the waiting crowd upon it hurry over. The
+Rhine at night here presents a most animated scene.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The river seems alive, but the city looks dead. There is a faded
+glory on everything. There are steeples and steeples, towers and
+towers. Cologne is said to have had at one time as many churches as
+there are days in the year. But life has gone out of them; they are
+like deserted houses. They belonged to the religious period of evolution,
+and are like geologic formations now,&mdash;history that has had its
+day, and left its tombstone.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cologne is as old as Rome in her glory,&mdash;older than the Christian
+era. She was the second great city of the Church in the Middle
+Ages.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cologne is full of wonders in stone and marble, wonders in
+legend and story as well; and among these the cathedral holds the
+first place, in both art and fable.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE MYSTERIOUS ARCHITECT.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>In the thirteenth century&mdash;so the story goes&mdash;Archbishop Conrad determined
+to erect a cathedral that should surpass any Christian temple in the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Who should be the architect?</p>
+
+<p>He must be a man of great genius, and his name would become immortal.</p>
+
+<p>There <em>was</em> a wonderful builder in Cologne, and the Archbishop went to him
+with his purpose, and asked him to attempt the design.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It must not only surpass anything in the past, but anything that may arise
+in the future.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The architect was awed in view of such a stupendous undertaking.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It will carry my name down the ages,&rdquo; he thought; &ldquo;I will sacrifice everything
+to success.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He dreamed; he fasted and prayed.</p>
+
+<p>He made sketch after sketch and plan after plan, but they all proved
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
+unworthy of a temple that should be one of the grandest monuments of the piety
+of the time, and one of the glories of future ages.</p>
+
+<p>In his dreams an exquisite image of a temple rose dimly before him. When
+he awoke, he could vaguely recall it, but could not reproduce it. The ideal
+haunted him and yet eluded him.</p>
+
+<p>He became disheartened. He wandered in the fields, absorbed in thought.
+The beautiful apparition of the temple would suddenly fill him with delight;
+then it would vanish, as if it were a mockery.</p>
+
+<p>One day he was wandering along the Rhine, absorbed in thought.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the phantom temple would appear to me, and linger
+but for a moment, that I could grasp the design.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He sat down on the shore, and began to draw a plan with a stick on the
+sand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is it,&rdquo; he cried with joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, that is it, indeed,&rdquo; said a mocking voice behind him.</p>
+
+<p>He looked around, and beheld an old man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is it,&rdquo; the stranger hissed; &ldquo;that is the Cathedral of Strasburg.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He was shocked. He effaced the design on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>He began again.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There it is,&rdquo; he again exclaimed with delight.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; chuckled the old man. &ldquo;That is the Cathedral of Amiens.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The architect effaced the picture on the sand, and produced another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Metz,&rdquo; said the old man.</p>
+
+<p>He made yet another effort.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Antwerp!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O my master,&rdquo; said the despairing architect, &ldquo;you mock me. Produce a
+design for me yourself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On one condition.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You shall give me yourself, soul and body!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The affrighted architect began to say his prayers, and the old man suddenly
+disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>The next day he wandered into a forest of the Seven Mountains, still thinking
+of his plan. He chanced to look up the mountain side, when he beheld the queer
+old man again; he was now leaning on a staff on a rocky wall.</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his staff and began to draw a picture on a rock behind him. The
+lines were of fire.</p>
+
+<p>Oh, how beautiful, how grand, how glorious, it all was!</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 422px;">
+<a name="the_mysterious_architect" id="the_mysterious_architect"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl077.jpg" width="422" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE MYSTERIOUS ARCHITECT.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
+Fretwork, spandrels, and steeples. It <em>was</em>&mdash;it <em>was</em> the very design that
+had haunted the poor architect, that flitted across his mind in dreams but left
+no memory.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Will you have my plan?&rdquo; asked the old man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I will do all you ask.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Meet me at the city gate to-morrow at midnight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The architect returned to Cologne, the image of the marvellous temple glowing
+in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I shall be immortal,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;my name will never die. But,&rdquo; he added,
+&ldquo;it is the price of my soul. No masses can help me, doomed, doomed forever!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He told his strange story to his old nurse on his return home.</p>
+
+<p>She went to consult the priest.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell him,&rdquo; said the priest to the old woman, &ldquo;to secure the design before
+he signs the contract. As soon as he gets the plan into his hand let him present
+to the old man, who is a demon, the relics of the martyrs and the sign of the
+cross.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At midnight he appeared at the gate. There stood the little old man.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here is your design,&rdquo; said the latter, handing him a roll of parchment.
+&ldquo;Now you shall sign the bond that gives me yourself in payment.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The architect grasped the plan.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Satan, begone!&rdquo; he thundered; &ldquo;in the name of this cross, and of St.
+Ursula, begone!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thou hast foiled me,&rdquo; said the old man, his eyes glowing in the darkness
+like fire. &ldquo;But I will have my revenge. Your church shall never be completed,
+and your name shall never be known in the future to mankind.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;The Cathedral of Cologne is unfinished, and its architect&rsquo;s name
+is unknown. It may harm the story, but it is but just to say that
+many of the old cathedrals of Europe are in these respects like that
+of Cologne.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were impatient to visit the cathedral on our arrival at Cologne.
+The structure stood as it were <em>over</em> the city, like its presiding
+genius; and so it was. Wherever we went the great roofs loomed
+above us in the air.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The interior did not disappoint us, even after all we had seen in
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>
+other cathedral towns. It was like a forest: the columns were like
+tree stems of a vast open woodland, the groined arches appearing like
+interweaving boughs. The gorgeous windows were like a sunset
+through the trees. The air was dusky in the arches, but near the lofty
+windows vivid with color.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was Sunday. The service had begun. It was like a pageant,
+an opera. The organ was pouring a solemn chant through the far
+arches, like fall winds among the trees. There was a flute-like gush of
+music, far off and mysterious, like birds. It came from the boy-choristers.
+Priests in glittering garments were kneeling before the cupola-crowned
+altar; there rose a cloud of incense from silver censers, and
+the organ thundered again, like the storm gathering over the woods.
+At the side of the altar stood the archiepiscopal throne, half in shadow
+amid the tall lights, red and gold; amid the piles of barbaric splendor,
+canopies, carvings, emblems.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the chapels on the following day. In one of them a
+Latin inscription tells the visitor,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;<span class="smcap">Here repose the three bodies of the holy magi.</span>&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The guide said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;This is the tomb of the Three Kings of Cologne.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The Wise Men of the East who came to worship at the cradle at
+Bethlehem.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Ask him how he <em>got</em> them,&rsquo; said Willie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The Empress Helena, mother of Constantine, recovered them
+and sent them to Milan. When Frederick Barbarossa took the city of
+Milan, he received them among the spoils and sent them to Cologne.
+The names of the Magi were Gaspar, Melchior, Balthazar.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Do you believe the legend?&rsquo; asked Willie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;I do not know; we shall find things harder than this to believe,
+I fancy, as we go on.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And we did.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 386px;">
+<a name="st_martins_church_cologne" id="st_martins_church_cologne"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl078.jpg" width="386" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ST. MARTIN&rsquo;S CHURCH, COLOGNE.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Leaving the tomb,&mdash;a pile of jewels,&mdash;we went out, and near the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
+outskirts of the city found the famous Church of Skulls,&mdash;a gilded
+ossuary, associated with a medi&aelig;val legend. It was full of cabinets
+of bones, said to be those of eleven thousand virgins slain for their
+faith by the Huns.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here we were shown&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>A part of the rod with which the Saviour was scourged.</em></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>A thorn from the crown of thorns,&mdash;the Spicula.</em></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>The pitcher in which Jesus turned water into wine.</em></p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The Medi&aelig;val Church,&rsquo; said our English-speaking guide, who
+had little faith in the genuineness of the relics, &lsquo;has exhibited some
+relics from time to time that would repay a long and arduous pilgrimage
+if they were what they purported to be; as, for instance, a feather
+of the angel Gabriel, the snout of a seraph, a ray from the star of
+Bethlehem, <em>two</em> skulls of the same saint,&mdash;one taken when the departed
+saint was somewhat younger, as flippantly explained to an astonished
+tourist, who found in two cities the same consecrated cranium.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;But of all the relics of which we ever read, some Germans who
+visited Italy in search of these precious mementos received the most
+remarkable.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;One of these gentlemen, having applied to an ecclesiastic for
+some memento of Scripture history which he could take back to Germany,
+was both astonished and delighted by receiving a carefully prepared
+package, which he was assured contained a veritable leg of the
+ass on which was made the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, when the
+people strewed palm branches in the way and shouted hosannas.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;He was enjoined to keep the treasure a secret until he reached
+home, which injunction he scrupulously obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Arriving in Germany, he disclosed to his four companions the
+wonderful relic. They were much surprised, for each had been secretly
+intrusted with the same remarkable treasure. So it appeared that the
+ass had <em>five</em> legs, which, of itself, would have been something of a
+miracle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>
+&ldquo;&lsquo;Whether these wiseacres ever visited the Latin kingdom in
+search of relics again I am not apprised.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Cologne is full of relics. The people regard them with reverence;
+they serve the purpose of scriptural object-teaching to them.
+But they only shock the tourist who has been educated to believe that
+religion is a spiritual life, and that Christ&rsquo;s kingdom is a spiritual kingdom,
+and not of this world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Several of the stories related by the boys this evening were historical.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STORY AND LEGEND OF CHARLEMAGNE.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Charles the Great, or Charlemagne, King of the Franks and Roman Emperor,
+was born, probably at Aix-la-Chapelle, in 742. His empire at first embraced
+the larger part of what is now France and Germany, but it extended under his
+wars until at last it nearly filled Europe, and he wore the crown of Rome and
+the West. Napoleon, at the height of his power, governed nearly the whole territory
+that was once ruled by the mighty Charlemagne.</p>
+
+<p>He was one of the greatest and wisest men in the history of the world. He
+encouraged learning, and opened a school in his palace; he maintained morality
+and aimed to spread Christianity throughout the world.</p>
+
+<p>The Saxons were heathens. They honored a great idol called the Irmansaul.
+They were opposed to Charlemagne, and constantly threatened his
+frontiers.</p>
+
+<p>Charlemagne invaded their country, overthrew the great image, and after
+many struggles reduced the people to submission. In accordance with the rude
+customs of the time, he compelled them to accept Christianity and receive baptism.
+He is said to have baptized the prisoners of war with his own hand. He
+divided Saxony into eight bishoprics, and supported the bishops with guards of
+soldiers. We should look upon such missionary work as this as very questionable
+to-day, although enlightened nations of this age have sometimes adopted a
+policy in dealing with other countries that is as open to criticism and censure.</p>
+
+<p>The Pope of Rome became involved in troubles with the Lombards. He
+appealed for help to the victorious King of the Franks, the recognized champion
+of the Church. Charlemagne crossed the Alps, conquered Lombardy, and
+crowned himself with the iron crown of the ancient Lombard kings.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 446px;">
+<a name="charlemagne_in_the_school_of_the_palace" id="charlemagne_in_the_school_of_the_palace"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl079.jpg" width="446" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CHARLEMAGNE IN THE SCHOOL OF THE PALACE.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>
+He then repaired to Rome and entered the city in triumph. As he came to
+St. Peter&rsquo;s he stooped to kiss the steps in memory of the illustrious men that
+had trodden it before him. The Pope there received him in great ceremony,
+and the choir chanted, &ldquo;Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He now became the most powerful monarch in the world. He gained great
+victories over the Moors in Spain, and it was in one of the mountain passes
+there that the chivalrous young Roland, of heroic song, perished. His lands
+stretched from the Baltic Sea to the Mediterranean.</p>
+
+<p>In the year 800 he went to Rome. It was Christmas Day. He entered the
+basilica of St. Peter&rsquo;s to attend Mass. He approached the altar, and bowed to
+pray. The Pope secretly uplifted the crown of the world and placed it upon his
+head.</p>
+
+<p>The people shouted, &ldquo;<em>Long live Charles Augustus, crowned of God, Emperor
+of the Romans!</em>&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>From this time Charlemagne was the Kaiser, or C&aelig;sar, of the Holy Roman
+Empire on the Tiber and the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>The Rhine was loved by Charlemagne. He lived much on its borders, and
+he was buried near it, in a church that he had founded, at Aix-la-Chapelle.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;I&rsquo;d dwell where Charlemagne looked down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, turning to his peers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exclaimed: &lsquo;Behold, for this fair land<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I&rsquo;ve prayed and fought for years.&rsquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all the Rhine towers shook to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The earthquake of their cheers.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;That day the tide ran crimson red<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">(But not with Rhenish wine);<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not with those vintage streams that through<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The green leaves gush and shine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Twas blood that from the Lombard ranks<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rushed down into the Rhine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&rsquo;Twas here the German soldiers flocked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Burning with love and pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And threw their muskets down to kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The soil with French blood dyed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&lsquo;The Rhine, dear Rhine!&rsquo; ten thousand men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Kneeling together, cried.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Thornbury.</p>
+
+<p class="smlpadt">There is a beautiful legend that Charlemagne visits the Rhine yearly and
+blesses the vintage. He comes in a golden robe, and crosses the river on a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
+golden bridge, and the bells of heaven chime above him as he fulfils his peaceful
+mission. The fine superstition is celebrated in music and verse.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;By the Rhine, the emerald river,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How softly glows the night!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vine-clad hills are lying<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the moonbeams&rsquo; golden light.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And on the hillside walketh<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A kingly shadow down,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sword and purple mantle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And heavy golden crown.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis Charlemagne, the emperor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Who, with a powerful hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For many a hundred years<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hath ruled in German land.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;From out his grave in Aachen<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He hath arisen there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bless once more his vineyards,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And breathe their fragrant air.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;By Rudesheim, on the water,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The moon doth brightly shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And buildeth a bridge of gold<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Across the emerald Rhine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The emperor walketh over,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And all along the tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bestows his benediction<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On the vineyards far and wide.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Then turns he back to Aachen<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In his grave-sleep to remain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the New Year&rsquo;s fragrant clusters<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Shall call him forth again.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Emanuel Geibel.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STORY AND LEGEND OF BARBAROSSA.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Frederick of Germany was a very handsome man. There was a tinge of red
+in his beard, and for that reason he came to be called Frederick Barbarossa.
+He was an ambitious man, and he went to Rome to be crowned.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 438px;">
+<a name="charlemagne_inflicting_baptism_upon_the_saxons" id="charlemagne_inflicting_baptism_upon_the_saxons"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl080.jpg" width="438" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CHARLEMAGNE INFLICTING BAPTISM UPON THE SAXONS.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
+It was a time of rival popes, and Barbarossa entered into the long controversy,
+which would make a history of itself. He captured Milan, and levelled
+the city. The sacred relics in the churches were sent to enrich the churches
+of Germany. Among these were the reputed bodies of the three Wise Men of
+the East; these were sent to Cologne, and are still exhibited there amid heaps
+of jewels.</p>
+
+<p>Barbarossa was constantly at war with popes and kings: he gained victories
+and suffered reverses; but his career was theatrical and popular in those rude
+times, and he was regarded as a very good monarch as kings went.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_germans_on_an_expedition" id="the_germans_on_an_expedition"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl081.jpg" width="500" height="279" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE GERMANS ON AN EXPEDITION.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>He once held a great peace festival at Mentz, to which came forty thousand
+knights. A camp of tents of silk and gold was set up by the Rhine, and musicians,
+called minnesingers, delighted the nobles and ladies with songs of heroes
+and knights. The songs and ballads then sung became famous, and this festival
+may be said to be the beginning of musical art in music-loving Germany.</p>
+
+<p>Europe was now startled with the news that the Saracens under Saladin
+had taken Jerusalem. Barbarossa was about inaugurating a new war with the
+Pope; but when this news came he and the Pope became reconciled, and he
+resolved to go on a crusade.</p>
+
+<p>He was an old man now, but he entered into the crusade with the fiery spirit
+of youth. His war-cry was,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Christ reigns! Christ conquers!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He won a great victory at Iconium.</p>
+
+<p>There was a swift, cold river near the battle-field, called Kaly Kadmus. A
+few days after the victory, Barbarossa went into it to bathe. He was struck by
+a chill and sank into the rapid current, and was drowned. He was seventy
+years of age. His body was found and interred at Antioch.</p>
+
+<p>Of course the Germans attached to Barbarossa a legend, as they do to everything.
+They said that he was not dead, but had fallen a victim to enchantment.
+He and his knights had been put to sleep in the Kyffhauser cave in Thuringia.
+They sat around a stone table, waiting for release. His once red, but now white,
+beard was growing through the stone.</p>
+
+<p>They also said that the spell that bound Barbarossa and his knights would
+some day be broken, and that they would come back to Germany. This would
+occur when the country should be in sore distress, and need a champion for its
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>Ravens flew continually about the cave where the monarch and his knights
+were held enchanted. When they should cease to circle about it, the spell would
+be broken, and the grand old monarch would return to the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>They looked for him in days of calamity; but centuries passed, and he did
+not return.</p>
+
+<p>The legend is thus told in song:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The ancient Barbarossa<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By magic spell is bound,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Old Frederick the Kaiser,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In castle underground.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The Kaiser hath not perished,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He sleeps an iron sleep;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, in the castle hidden,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He&rsquo;s sunk in slumber deep.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;With him the chiefest treasures<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of empire hath he ta&rsquo;en,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wherewith, in fitting season,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He shall appear again.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The Kaiser he is sitting<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon an ivory throne;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of marble is the table<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His head he resteth on.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;His beard it is not flaxen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like living fire it shines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And groweth through the table<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Whereon his chin reclines.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;As in a dream he noddeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Then wakes he, heavy-eyed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And calls, with lifted finger,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A stripling to his side.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;Dwarf, get thee to the gateway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And tidings bring, if still<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their course the ancient ravens<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are wheeling round the hill.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;&lsquo;For if the ancient ravens<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Are flying still around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hundred years to slumber<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">By magic spell I&rsquo;m bound.&rsquo;&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Friedrich R&uuml;ckert.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The seven evenings with historic places on the Rhine had proved
+a source of profitable entertainment to the Club. It was proposed to
+continue the plan, and to follow Mr. Beal&rsquo;s and the boys&rsquo; journey to
+the North.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let us add to these entertainments,&rdquo; said Charlie Leland,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;(1) A Night in Northern Germany. We will call it a Hamburg Night.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;(2) A Night in Denmark.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;(3) A Night in Sweden and Norway.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The proposal was adopted, and Master Beal was asked to continue
+the narrative of travel, and all the members of the Club were requested
+to collect stories that illustrate the history, traditions, manners, and
+customs of these countries.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>HAMBURG.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Hamburg.&mdash;Berlin.&mdash;Potsdam.&mdash;Palace of Sans-Souci.&mdash;Story of the Struggles
+and Triumphs of Handel.&mdash;Story of Peter the Wild Boy.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcaph"><span class="dropcap">H</span></span>AMBURG, the fine old city of the Elbe, is almost as
+large as was Boston before the annexation; it is
+familiar by name to American ears, for it is from
+Hamburg, as a port, that the yearly army of German
+emigrants come.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I looked sadly upon Hamburg as I thought
+how many eyes filled with tears had turned back upon her spires and
+towers, her receding harbor, and seen the Germany of their ancestors,
+and the old city of Charlemagne, with its historic associations of a
+thousand years, fade forever from view. Down the Elbe go the
+steamers, and the emigrants with their eyes fixed on the shores!
+Then westward, ho, for the prairie territories of the great empire of
+the New World!</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More than six thousand vessels enter the harbor of Hamburg in
+a year. The flags of all nations float there, but the British red is
+everywhere seen.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the church of St. Michael, and ascended the steeple,
+which is four hundred and thirty-two feet high, or one hundred feet
+higher than the spire of St. Paul&rsquo;s in London. We looked down on
+the city, the harbor, the canals. Our eye followed the Elbe on its way
+to the sea. On the north was Holstein; on the south, Hanover.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 344px;">
+<a name="canal_in_hamburg" id="canal_in_hamburg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl082.jpg" width="344" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CANAL IN HAMBURG.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;From Hamburg we made a zigzag to Berlin and Potsdam. The
+railroad between the great German port and the brilliant capital is
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
+across a level country, the distance being about one hundred and
+seventy-five miles, or seven hours&rsquo; ride.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Berlin, capital of Prussia and of the German Empire, the residence
+of the German Emperor, is situated in the midst of a vast plain;
+&lsquo;an oasis of stone and brick in a Sahara of sand.&rsquo; It is about the size
+of New York, and it greatly resembles an American city, for the
+reason that everything there seems new.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It has been called a city of palaces, and so it is, for many of the
+private residences would be fitting abodes for kings. The architecture
+is everywhere beautiful; all the elegances of Greek art meet the
+eye wherever it may turn. Ruins there are none; old quarters, none;
+quaint Gothic or medi&aelig;val buildings, none. The streets are so regular,
+the public squares so artistic, and the buildings such models of
+art, that the whole becomes monotonous.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;This is America over again,&rsquo; said an American traveller, who
+had joined our party. &lsquo;Let us return.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Many of the buildings might remind one of the hanging
+gardens of old, so full are the balconies of flowers. The fronts of
+some of the private residences are flower gardens from the ground
+to the roofs.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The emperor&rsquo;s palace is the crowning architectural glory of the
+city. It is four hundred feet long.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the Zo&ouml;logical Gardens and the National Gallery of
+Pictures, the entrance to which makes a beautiful picture.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We rode to Potsdam, a distance of some twenty miles. Potsdam
+is the Versailles of Germany. The road to Potsdam is a continuous
+avenue of trees, like the roads near Boston.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Of course our object in visiting the town was to see the palace
+and gardens of Sans-Souci, the favorite residence of Frederick the
+Great.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="the_palace_in_berlin" id="the_palace_in_berlin"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl083.jpg" width="600" height="412" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE PALACE IN BERLIN.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Frederick loved everything that was French in art. The French
+expression is seen on everything at Sans-Souci. The approach to the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
+palace is by an avenue through gardens laid out in the Louis Quatorze
+style, with alleys, hedges, statues, and fountains.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The famous palace stands on the top flight of a series of broad
+terraces, fronted with glass. Beneath these terraces grow vines, olives,
+and orange-trees. In the rear of the palace is a colonnade. There
+Frederick used to pace to and fro in the sunshine, when failing health
+and old age admonished him that death was near. As his religious
+hopes were few, his reflections must have been rather lonely when
+death&rsquo;s winter came stealing on.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="grotto" id="grotto"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl084.jpg" width="500" height="328"
+alt="Two stone lions guard steps leading to the entrance" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GROTTO.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The room where Frederick studied, and the adjoining apartment
+where he died, are shown. The former contains a library consisting
+wholly of books in French.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We returned to Hamburg.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were in old Danish territory already. We stopped but one
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
+night at Hamburg on our return; then we made our way to the
+steamer which was to take us to the Denmark of to-day, Copenhagen.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Among the stories on the Hamburg Night was one by a music-loving
+student of Yule, which he called</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE CITY OF HANDEL&rsquo;S YOUTH.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The composer of the &ldquo;Messiah,&rdquo; George Frederick Handel, was born at Halle,
+Germany, Feb. 23, 1685. He sang before he could talk plainly. His father, a
+physician, was alarmed, for he had a poor opinion of music and musicians. As
+the child grew, nature asserted that he would be a musician; the father declared
+he should be a lawyer.</p>
+
+<p>Little George was kept from the public school, because the gamut was there
+taught. He might go to no place where music would be heard, and no musical
+instrument was permitted in the house.</p>
+
+<p>But nature, aided by the wiser mother, triumphed. In those days musical
+nuns played upon a dumb spinet, that they might not disturb the quiet of their
+convents. It was a sort of piano, and the strings were muffled with cloth. One
+of these spinets was smuggled into the garret of Dr. Handel&rsquo;s house. At night,
+George would steal up to the attic and practise upon it. But not a tinkle could
+the watchful father hear. Before the child was seven years of age he had taught
+himself to play upon the dumb instrument.</p>
+
+<p>One day Dr. Handel started to visit a son in the service of a German duke.
+George begged to go, as he wished to hear the organ in the duke&rsquo;s chapel. But
+not until he ran after the coach did the father consent.</p>
+
+<p>They arrived at the palace as a chapel service was going on. The boy stole
+away to the organ-loft, and, after service, began playing. The duke, recognizing
+that it was not his organist&rsquo;s style, sent a servant to learn who was playing.
+The man returned with the trembling boy.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Handel was both amazed and enraged. But the duke, patting the child
+on the head, drew out his story. &ldquo;You are stifling a genius,&rdquo; he said to the
+angry father; &ldquo;this boy must not be snubbed.&rdquo; The doctor, more subservient
+to a prince than to nature, consented that his son should study music.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="sans_souci" id="sans_souci"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl085.jpg" width="600" height="422"
+alt="Extensive landscaped gardens with a lake and statuary" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">SANS-SOUCI.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>During three years the boy studied with Zachau, the organist of the Halle
+Cathedral. They were years of hard work. One day his teacher said to George,
+&ldquo;I can teach you no longer; you already know more than I do. You must go
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
+and study in Berlin.&rdquo; Berlin was at once attracted to the youthful musician by
+his playing on the harpsichord and the organ. But the death of his father compelled
+him to earn his daily bread. Willing to descend, that he might rise, he
+became a violin player of minor parts at the Hamburg Opera House. The
+homage he had received prompted his vanity to create a surprise. He played
+badly, and acted as a verdant youth. The members of the orchestra sneeringly
+informed him that he would never earn his salt. Handel, however, waited his
+opportunity. One day the harpsichordist, the principal person in the orchestra,
+was absent. The band, thinking it would be a good joke, persuaded Handel to
+take his place. Laying aside his violin, he seated himself at the harpsichord,
+amid the smiles of the musicians. As he touched the keys the smiles gave
+place to looks of wonder. He played on, and the whole orchestra broke into
+loud applause. From that day until he left Hamburg, the youth of nineteen led
+the band.</p>
+
+<p>Handel&rsquo;s extraordinary skill as a performer was not wholly due to genius.
+He practised incessantly, so that every key of his harpsichord was hollowed like
+a spoon.</p>
+
+<p>Handel&rsquo;s greatest triumphs, as a composer, were won in England. But the
+music-loving Irish of Dublin had the honor of first welcoming his masterpiece,
+the &ldquo;Messiah.&rdquo; Such was the enthusiasm it created that ladies left their hoops at
+home, in order to get one hundred more listeners into the room.</p>
+
+<p>A German poet calls the &ldquo;Messiah&rdquo; &ldquo;a Christian epic in musical sounds.&rdquo;
+The expression is a felicitous description of its theme and style. It celebrates
+the grandest of events with the sublimest strains that music may utter. The
+great composer commanded, and all the powers of music hastened with song and
+instrument to praise the life, death, and triumph of the Christ. No human composition
+ever voiced, in poetry or prose or music, such a masterly conception of
+the Virgin&rsquo;s Son as that uttered by this magnificent oratorio.</p>
+
+<p>The sacred Scriptures furnish the words. The seer&rsquo;s prophecies, the Psalmist&rsquo;s
+strains, the evangelist&rsquo;s narrative, the angels&rsquo; song, the anthem of the redeemed,
+are transferred to aria, recitative, and chorus. The sentiment is as
+majestic as the music is grand. He who sought out the fitting words had studied
+his Bible, and he who joined to them musical sounds dwelt in the region of
+the sublime.</p>
+
+<p>All the emotions are touched by the oratorio. Words and music quiver
+with fear, utter sorrow, plead with pathos, or exult in the joy of triumph. A
+symphony so paints a pastoral scene that the shepherds of Bethlehem are seen
+watching their flocks. One air, &ldquo;He was despised,&rdquo; suggests that its birth was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
+amid tears. It was; for Handel sobbed aloud while composing it. It is the
+threnody of the oratorio.</p>
+
+<p>The grandeur of the &ldquo;Messiah&rdquo; finds its highest expression in the &ldquo;Hallelujah
+Chorus.&rdquo; &ldquo;I did think,&rdquo; said Handel, describing, in imperfect English, his
+thought at the moment of composition,&mdash;&ldquo;I did think I did see all heaven
+before me, and the great God himself.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>When the oratorio was first performed in London, the audience were transported
+at the words, &ldquo;The Lord God omnipotent reigneth.&rdquo; They all, with
+George II., who happened to be present, started to their feet and remained
+standing until the chorus was ended. This act of homage has become the
+custom with all English-speaking audiences.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have given the audience an excellent entertainment,&rdquo; said a patronizing
+nobleman to Handel, at the close of the first performance of the &ldquo;Messiah&rdquo;
+in London.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My lord,&rdquo; replied the grand old composer, with dignity, &ldquo;I should be very
+sorry if I only <em>entertained</em> them; I wish to make them <em>better</em>.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>A few years before his death Handel was smitten with blindness. He continued,
+however, to preside at his oratorios, being led by a lad to the organ,
+which, as leader, he played. One day, while conducting his oratorio of &ldquo;Samson,&rdquo;
+the old man turned pale and trembled with emotion, as the bass sung the blind
+giant&rsquo;s lament: &ldquo;Total eclipse! no sun, no moon!&rdquo; As the audience saw the
+sightless eyes turned towards them, they were affected to tears.</p>
+
+<p>Seized by a mortal illness, Handel expressed a wish that he might die on
+Good Friday, &ldquo;in hope of meeting his good God, his sweet Lord and Saviour,
+on the day of his resurrection.&rdquo; This consolation, it seems, was not denied him.
+For on his monument, standing in the Poets&rsquo; Corner of Westminster Abbey, is
+inscribed: &ldquo;Died on Good Friday, April 14, 1759.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Another story, which is associated with the woods of Hanover,
+near Hamburg, was entitled</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">PETER THE WILD BOY.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>In the year 1725, a few years after the capture of Marie le Blanc, a celebrated
+wild girl in France, there was seen in the woods, some twenty-five miles
+from Hanover, an object in form like a boy, yet running on his hands and feet,
+and eating grass and moss, like a beast.</p>
+
+<p>The remarkable creature was captured, and was taken to Hanover by the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+superintendent of the House of Correction at Zell. It proved to be a boy evidently
+about thirteen years of age, yet possessing the habits and appetites of a
+mere animal. He was presented to King George I., at a state dinner at Hanover,
+and, the curiosity of the king being greatly excited, he became his patron.</p>
+
+<p>In about a year after his capture he was taken to England, and exhibited to
+the court. While in that country he received the name of Peter the Wild Boy,
+by which ever after he was known.</p>
+
+<p>Marie le Blanc, after proper training, became a lively, brilliant girl, and
+related to her friends and patrons the history of her early life; but Peter the
+Wild Boy seems to have been mentally deficient.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="peter_the_wild_boy" id="peter_the_wild_boy"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl086.jpg" width="500" height="375"
+alt="Peter is pursued by three men" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PETER THE WILD BOY.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Dr. Arbuthnot, at whose house he resided for a time in his youth, spared no
+pains to teach him to talk; but his efforts met with but little success.</p>
+
+<p>Peter seemed to comprehend the language and signs of beasts and birds far
+better than those of human beings, and to have more sympathy with the brute
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
+creation than with mankind. He, however, at last was taught to articulate the
+name of his royal patron, his own name, and some other words.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long time before he became accustomed to the habits of civilization.
+He had evidently been used to sleeping on the boughs of trees, as a security
+from wild beasts, and when put to bed would tear the clothes, and hopping up
+take his naps in the corner of the room.</p>
+
+<p>He regarded clothing with aversion, and when fully dressed was as uneasy
+as a culprit in prison. He was, however, generally docile, and submitted to
+discipline, and by degrees became more fit for human society.</p>
+
+<p>He was attracted by beauty, and fond of finery, and it is related of him that
+he attempted to kiss the young and dashing Lady Walpole, in the circle at court.
+The manner in which the lovely woman received his attentions may be fancied.</p>
+
+<p>Finding that he was incapable of education, his royal patron placed him in
+charge of a farmer, where he lived many years. Here he was visited by Lord
+Monboddo, a speculative English writer, who, in a metaphysical work, gives the
+following interesting account:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was in the beginning of June, 1782, that I saw him in a farmhouse
+called Broadway, about a mile from Berkhamstead, kept there on a pension of
+thirty pounds, which the king pays. He is but of low stature, not exceeding
+five feet three inches, and though he must now be about seventy years of age,
+he has a fresh, healthy look. He wears his beard; his face is not at all ugly or
+disagreeable, and he has a look that may be called sensible or sagacious for a
+savage.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;About twenty years ago he used to elope, and once, as I was told, he wandered
+as far as Norfolk; but of late he has become quite tame, and either keeps
+the house or saunters about the farm. He has been, during the last thirteen
+years, where he lives at present, and before that he was twelve years with
+another farmer, whom I saw and conversed with.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;This farmer told me he had been put to school somewhere in Hertfordshire,
+but had only learned to articulate his own name, Peter, and the name of
+King George, both which I heard him pronounce very distinctly. But the
+woman of the house where he now is&mdash;for the man happened not to be home&mdash;told
+me he understood everything that was said to him concerning the common
+affairs of life, and I saw that he readily understood several things she said
+to him while I was present. Among other things she desired him to sing
+&lsquo;Nancy Dawson,&rsquo; which he accordingly did, and another tune that she named.
+He was never mischievous, but had that gentleness of manners which I hold to
+be characteristic of our nature, at least till we become carnivorous, and hunters,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
+or warriors. He feeds at present as the farmer and his wife do; but, as I was
+told by an old woman who remembered to have seen him when he first came to
+Hertfordshire, which she computed to be about fifty-five years before, he then
+fed much on leaves, particularly of cabbage, which she saw him eat raw. He
+was then, as she thought, about fifteen years of age, walked upright, but could
+climb trees like a squirrel. At present he not only eats flesh, but has acquired
+a taste for beer, and even for spirits, of which he inclines to drink more than he
+can get.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The old farmer with whom he lived before he came to his present situation
+informed me that Peter had that taste before he came to him. He has also
+become very fond of fire, but has not acquired a liking for money; for though
+he takes it he does not keep it, but gives it to his landlord or landlady, which I
+suppose is a lesson they have taught him. He retains so much of his natural
+instinct that he has a fore-feeling of bad weather, growling, and howling, and
+showing great disorder before it comes on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Another philosopher, who made him a visit, obtained the following luminous
+information:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who is your father?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;King George.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is your name?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pe-ter.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What is <em>that</em>?&rdquo; (pointing to a dog.)</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Bow-wow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;What are you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Wild man.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Where were you found?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Hanover.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Who found you?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;King George.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>About the year 1746 he ran away, and, entering Scotland, was arrested as
+an English spy. His captors endeavored to force from him some terrible disclosure,
+but could obtain nothing, not even an answer, and it was something of
+a puzzle to them to determine exactly what they had captured.</p>
+
+<p>They at last resolved to inflict punishment upon him for his obstinacy, but
+were deterred by a lady who recognized him and disclosed his history.</p>
+
+<p>In his latter years he made himself useful to the farmer with whom he lived,
+but he required constant watchfulness, else he would make grave blunders. An
+amusing anecdote is told of his manner of working when left to himself.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
+He was required, during the absence of his guardian, to fill a cart with compost,
+which he did; but, having filled the cart in the usual way, and finding himself
+out of employment, he directly shovelled the compost out again, and when
+the farmer returned the cart was empty.</p>
+
+<p>But poor Peter, with all his dulness, possessed some remarkable characteristics.
+He was very strong of arm, and wonderfully swift of foot, and his senses
+were acute. His musical gifts were most marvellous. He would reproduce, in
+his humming way, the notes of a tune that he had heard but once,&mdash;a thing
+that might have baffled an amateur.</p>
+
+<p>He also had a lively sense of the beautiful and the sublime. He would
+stand at night gazing on the stars as though transfixed by the splendors blazing
+above. His whole being was thrilled with joy on the approach of spring. He
+would sing all the day as the atmosphere became warm and balmy, and would
+often prolong his melodies far into the beautiful nights.</p>
+
+<p>He died aged about seventy years.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BELLS OF THE RHINE.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Legends of the Bells of Basel and Speyer.&mdash;Story of the Harmony Chime.&mdash;The
+Bell-founder of Breslau.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapo"><span class="dropcap">O</span></span>NE evening, after the story-telling entertainments,
+Mr. Beal was speaking to the Class of the great
+bell of Cologne which has been cast from the
+French cannon captured in the last war.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It seems a beautiful thing,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;that the
+guns of war should be made to ring out the notes
+of peace.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is one subject that we did not treat at our meetings,&rdquo; said
+Charlie Leland,&mdash;&ldquo;the bells of the Rhine.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;True,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal. &ldquo;A volume might be written on the subject.
+Almost every belfry on the Rhine has its legend, and many of
+them are associated with thrilling events of history. The raftmen, as
+they drift down the river on the Sabbath, associate almost every bell
+they hear with a story. The bells of Basle (Basel), Strasburg, Speyer,
+Heidelberg, Worms, Frankfort, Mayence, Bingen, and Bonn all ring
+out a meaning to the German student that the ordinary traveller does
+not comprehend. Bell land is one of mystery.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;For example, the clocks of Basel. The American traveller
+arrives at Basel, and hurries out of his hotel, and along the beautiful
+public gardens, to the terrace overlooking the Rhine. He looks down
+on the picturesque banks of the winding river; then far away his eye
+seeks the peaks of the Jura.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
+&ldquo;The bells strike. The music to his ears has no history.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The German and French students hear them with different ears.
+The old struggles of Alsace and Romaine come back to memory.
+They recall the fact that the city was once saved by a heroic watchman,
+who confused the enemy by causing the bells to strike the wrong
+hour. To continue the memory of this event, the great bell of Basel
+during the Middle Ages was made to strike the hour of one at noonday.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The bells of Speyer have an interesting legend. Henry IV. was
+one of the most unfortunate men who ever sat upon a throne. His
+own son, afterward Henry V., conspired against him, and the Pope
+declared him an outlaw.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Deserted by every one, he went into exile, and made his home at
+Ingleheim, on the Rhine. One old servant, Kurt, followed his changing
+fortunes. He died at Liege.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Misfortune followed the once mighty emperor even after death.
+The Pope would not allow his body to be buried for several years.
+Kurt watched by the coffin, like Rizpah by the bodies of her sons.
+He made it his shrine: he prayed by it daily.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At last the Pope consented that the remains of the emperor should
+rest in the earth. The body was brought to Speyer. Kurt followed
+it. It was buried with great pomp, and tollings of bells.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Some months after the ceremonious event Kurt died. As his
+breath was passing, say the legendary writers, all the bells began to
+toll. The bellmen ran to the belfries; no one was there, but the bells
+tolled on, swayed, it was believed, by unseen hands.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Henry V. died in the same town. He was despised by the
+people, and he suffered terrible agonies in his last hours. As his last
+moments came the bells began to toll again. It was not the usual
+announcement of the death of the good, but the sharp notes that proclaim
+that a criminal is being led to justice; at least, so the people
+came to believe.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 445px;">
+<a name="the_silent_castles" id="the_silent_castles"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl087.jpg" width="445" height="600"
+alt="Castles perch on high cliffs above a river" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE SILENT CASTLES.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
+&ldquo;One of the most beautiful stories of bells that I ever met is associated
+with a once famous factory that cast some of the most melodious
+bells in Holland and the towns of the Rhine. I will tell it to
+you.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE HARMONY CHIME.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Many years ago, in a large iron foundry in the city of Ghent, was found a
+young workman by the name of Otto Holstein. He was not nineteen years of
+age, but none of the workmen could equal him in his special department,&mdash;bell
+casting or moulding. Far and near the fame of Otto&rsquo;s bells extended,&mdash;the
+clearest and sweetest, people said, that were ever heard.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="hotel_de_ville_ghent" id="hotel_de_ville_ghent"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl088.jpg" width="500" height="412" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">HOTEL DE VILLE, GHENT.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
+Of course the great establishment of Von Erlangen, in which Otto worked,
+got the credit of his labors; but Von Erlangen and Otto himself knew very
+well to whom the superior tone of the bells was due. The master did not pay
+him higher wages than the others, but by degrees he grew to be general superintendent
+in his department in spite of his extreme youth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, my bells are good,&rdquo; he said to a friend one day, who was commenting
+upon their merits; &ldquo;but they do not make the music I will yet strike from
+them. They ring alike for all things. To be sure, when they toll for a funeral
+the slow measure makes them <em>seem</em> mournful, but then the notes are really the
+same as in a wedding peal. I shall make a chime of bells that will sound at
+will every chord in the human soul.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then wilt thou deal in magic,&rdquo; said his friend, laughing; &ldquo;and the Holy
+Inquisition will have somewhat to do with thee. No human power can turn a
+bell into a musical instrument.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But I can,&rdquo; he answered briefly; &ldquo;and, Inquisition or not, I will do it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He turned abruptly from his friend and sauntered, lost in thought, down the
+narrow street which led to his home. It was an humble, red-tiled cottage, of
+only two rooms, that he had inherited from his grandfather. There he lived
+alone with his widowed mother. She was a mild, pleasant-faced woman, and
+her eyes brightened as her son bent his tall head under the low doorway, as he
+entered the little room. &ldquo;Thou art late, Otto,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and in trouble, too,&rdquo;
+as she caught sight of his grave, sad face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;When I asked Herr Erlangen for an increase of
+salary, for my work grows harder every day, he refused it. Nay, he told me if
+I was not satisfied, I could leave, for there were fifty men ready to take my
+place. Ready! yes, I warrant they&rsquo;re ready enough, but to be <em>able</em> is a different
+thing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His mother sighed deeply.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thou wilt not leave Herr Erlangen&rsquo;s, surely. It is little we get, but it
+keeps us in food.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must leave,&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;Nay, do not cry out, mother! I have
+other plans, and thou wilt not starve. Monsieur Dayrolles, the rich Frenchman,
+who lives in the Linden-Strasse, has often asked me why I do not set up a
+foundry of my own. Of course I laughed,&mdash;I, who never have a thaler to
+spend; but he told me he and several other rich friends of his would advance
+the means to start me in business. He is a great deal of his time at Erlangen&rsquo;s,
+and is an enthusiast about fine bells. Ah! we are great friends, and
+I am going to him after supper.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;People say he is crazy,&rdquo; said his mother.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Crazy!&rdquo; indignantly. &ldquo;People say that of everybody who has ideas they
+can&rsquo;t understand. They say <em>I</em> am crazy when I talk of my chime of bells. If
+I stay with Erlangen, he gets the credit of my work; but my chime must be
+mine,&mdash;mine alone, mother.&rdquo; His eyes lighted with a kind of wild enthusiasm
+whenever he talked on this subject.</p>
+
+<p>His mother&rsquo;s cheerful face grew sad, as she laid her hand on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why, Otto, thou art not thyself when thou speakest of those bells.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;More my real self, mother, than at any other time!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;I only
+truly live when I think of how my idea is to be carried out. It is to be my
+life&rsquo;s work; I know it, I feel it. It is upon me that my fate is woven inextricably
+in that ideal chime. It is God-sent. No great work, but the maker is
+possessed wholly by it. Don&rsquo;t shake your head, mother. Wait till my &lsquo;Harmony
+Chime&rsquo; sounds from the great cathedral belfry, and then shake it if
+you can.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>His mother smiled faintly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Thou art a boy,&mdash;a mere child, Otto, though a wonderful genius, I must
+confess. Thy hopes delude thee, for it would take a lifetime to carry out
+thine idea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then let it take a lifetime!&rdquo; he cried out vehemently. &ldquo;Let me accomplish
+it when I am too old to hear it distinctly, and I will be content that its
+first sounds toll my dirge. I must go now to Monsieur Dayrolles. Wish me
+good luck, dearest mother.&rdquo; And he stooped and kissed her tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>Otto did not fail. The strange old man in his visits to the foundry had
+noticed the germs of genius in the boy, and grown very fond of him. He was
+so frank, so honest, so devoted to his work, and had accomplished so much at
+his early age, that Monsieur Dayrolles saw a brilliant future before him. Besides,
+the old gentleman, with a Frenchman&rsquo;s vanity, felt that if the &ldquo;Harmony
+Chime&rdquo; <em>could</em> be made, the name of the munificent patron would go down to
+posterity with that of the maker. He believed firmly that the boy would some
+day accomplish his purpose. So, although the revolt of the Netherlands had
+begun and he was preparing to return to his own country, he advanced the
+necessary funds, and saw Otto established in business before he quitted Ghent.</p>
+
+<p>In a very short time work poured in upon Otto. During that long and
+terrible war the manufacture of cannon alone made the fortunes of the workers
+in iron. So five years from the time he left Von Erlangen we find Otto Holstein
+a rich man at twenty-four years of age. But the idea for which he
+labored had never for a moment left his mind. Sleeping or waking, toiling or
+resting, his thoughts were busy perfecting the details of the great work.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Thou art twenty-four to-day, Otto,&rdquo; said his good mother, &ldquo;and rich
+beyond our hopes. When wilt thou bring Gertrude home to me? Thou hast
+been betrothed now for three years, and I want a daughter to comfort my declining
+years. Thou doest thy betrothed
+maiden a grievous wrong
+to delay without cause. The gossips
+are talking already.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let them talk,&rdquo; laughed Otto.
+&ldquo;Little do Gertrude or I care for
+their silly tongues. She and I
+have agreed that the &lsquo;Harmony
+Chime&rsquo; is to usher in our marriage-day.
+Why, good mother, no
+man can serve two mistresses, and
+my chime has the oldest claim.
+Let me accomplish it, and then the
+remainder of my life belongs to
+Gertrude, and thou, too, best of
+mothers.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Still that dream! still that
+dream!&rdquo; sighed his mother. &ldquo;Thou
+hast cast bell after bell, and until
+to-day I have heard nothing more
+of the wild idea.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, because I needed money.
+I needed time, and thought, too, to
+make experiments. All is matured
+now. I have received an order to
+make a new set of bells for the great cathedral that was sacked last week by
+the &lsquo;Iconoclasts,&rsquo; and I begin to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 279px;">
+<a name="bell_tower_ghent" id="bell_tower_ghent"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl089.jpg" width="279" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BELL-TOWER, GHENT.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>As Otto had said, his life&rsquo;s work began the next day. He loved his
+mother, but he seemed now to forget her in the feverish eagerness with which
+he threw himself into his labors. He had been a devoted lover to Gertrude,
+but he now never had a spare moment to give to her,&mdash;in fact, he only seemed
+to remember her existence in connection with the peal which would ring in
+their wedding-day. His labors were prolonged far over the appointed time, and
+meanwhile the internal war raged more furiously, and the Netherlands were
+one vast battle-field. No interest did Otto seem to take in the stirring events
+around him. The bells held his whole existence captive.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 442px;">
+<a name="bell_tower_of_heidelberg" id="bell_tower_of_heidelberg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl090.jpg" width="442" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BELL TOWER OF HEIDELBERG.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
+At last the moulds were broken, and the bells came out of their husks perfect
+in form, and shining as stars in Otto&rsquo;s happy eyes. They were mounted
+in the great belfry, and for the test-chime Otto had employed the best bell-ringers
+in the city.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lovely May morning; and, almost crazed with excitement and
+anxiety, Otto, accompanied by a few chosen friends, waited outside the city for
+the first notes of the Harmony Chime. At some distance he thought he could
+better judge of the merits of his work.</p>
+
+<p>At last the first notes were struck, clear, sonorous, and so melodious that his
+friends cried aloud with delight. But with finger upraised for silence, and eyes
+full of ecstatic delight, Otto stood like a statue until the last note died away.
+Then his friends caught him as he fell forward in a swoon,&mdash;a swoon so like
+death that no one thought he would recover.</p>
+
+<p>But it was not death, and he came out of it with a look of serene peace on
+his face that it had not worn since boyhood. He was married to Gertrude that
+very day, but every one noticed that the ecstasy which transfigured his face
+seemed to be drawn more from the sound of the bells than the sweet face
+beside him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you see a spell is cast on him as soon as they begin to ring?&rdquo; said
+one, after the bells had ceased to be a wonder. &ldquo;If he is walking, he stops
+short, and if he is working, the work drops and a strange fire comes in his
+eyes; and I have seen him shudder all over as it he had an ague.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>In good truth, the bells seemed to have drawn a portion of Otto&rsquo;s life to
+them. When the incursions of the war forced him to fly from Ghent with his
+family, his regrets were not for his injured property, but that he could not hear
+the bells.</p>
+
+<p>He was absent two years, and when he returned it was to find the cathedral
+almost a ruin, and the bells gone no one knew where. From that moment a
+settled melancholy took possession of Otto. He made no attempt to retrieve
+his losses; in fact, he gave up work altogether, and would sit all day with his
+eyes fixed on the ruined belfry.</p>
+
+<p>People said he was melancholy mad, and I suppose it was the truth; but he
+was mad with a kind of gentle patience very sad to see. His mother had died
+during their exile, and now his wife, unable with all her love to rouse him from
+his torpor, faded slowly away. He did not notice her sickness, and his poor
+numbed brain seemed imperfectly to comprehend her death. But he followed
+her to the grave, and turning from it moved slowly down the city, passed the
+door of his old home without looking at it, and went out of the city gates.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
+After that he was seen in every city in Europe at different intervals.
+Charitable people gave him alms, but he never begged. He would enter a
+town, take his station near a church and wait until the bells rang for matins or
+vespers, then take up his staff and, sighing deeply, move off. People noting the
+wistful look in his eyes would ask him what he wanted.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am seeking,&mdash;I am seeking,&rdquo; was his only reply; and those were almost
+the only words any one ever heard from him, and he muttered them often to
+himself. Years rolled over the head of the wanderer, but still his slow march
+from town to town continued. His hair had grown white, and his strength
+had failed him so much that he only tottered instead of walked, but still that
+wistful seeking look was in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>He heard the old bells on the Rhine in his wanderings. He lingered long
+near the belfries of the sweetest voices; but their melodious tongues only
+spoke to him of his lost hope.</p>
+
+<p>He left the river of sweet bells, and made a pilgrimage to England. It was
+the days of cathedrals in their beauty and glory, and here he again heard the
+tones that he loved, but which failed to realize his own ideal.</p>
+
+<p>When a person fails to fulfil his ideal, his whole life seems a failure,&mdash;like
+something glorious and beautiful one meets and loses, and never again finds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Be true to the dreams of thy youth,&rdquo; says a German author; and every
+soul is unhappy until the dreams of youth prove true.</p>
+
+<p>One glorious evening in midsummer Otto was crossing a river in Ireland.
+The kind-hearted boatman had been moved by the old man&rsquo;s imploring gestures
+to cross him. &ldquo;He&rsquo;s mighty nigh his end, anyhow,&rdquo; he muttered, looking at
+the feeble movements of the old pilgrim as he stumbled to his seat.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly through the still evening air came the distant sound of a melodious
+chime. At the first note the pilgrim leaped to his feet and threw up his
+arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;O my God,&rdquo; he cried, &ldquo;found at last!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s the bells of the Convent,&rdquo; said the wondering man, not understanding
+Otto&rsquo;s words spoken in a foreign tongue, but answering his gesture. &ldquo;They
+was brought from somewhere in Holland when they were fighting there.
+Moighty fine bells they are, anyhow. But he isn&rsquo;t listening to me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>No, he heard nothing but the bells. He merely whispered, &ldquo;Come back
+to me after so many years,&mdash;O love of my soul, O thought of my life! Peal
+on, for your voices tell me of Paradise.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The last note floated through the air, and as it died away something else
+soared aloft forever, free from the clouds and struggles of life.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 443px;">
+<a name="breslau" id="breslau"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl091.jpg" width="443" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BRESLAU.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+His ideal was fulfilled now. Otto lay dead, his face full of peace and joy,
+for the weary quest of his crazy brain was over, and the Harmony Chime had
+called him to his eternal rest.</p>
+
+<p>And, past that change of life that men call Death, we may well believe that
+he heard in the ascension to the celestial atmosphere the ringing of welcoming
+bells more beautiful than the Harmony Chime.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;I will relate another story,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal. &ldquo;It is like the Harmony
+Chime, but has a sadder ending.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE BELL-FOUNDER OF BRESLAU.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>There once lived in Breslau a famous bell-founder, the fame of whose skill
+caused his bells to be placed in many German towers. According to the ballad
+of Wilhelm M&uuml;ller,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;And all his bells they sounded<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So full and clear and pure:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He poured his faith and love in,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of that all men were sure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But of all bells that ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He cast, was one the crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That was the bell for sinners<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At Breslau in the town.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>He had an ambition to cast one bell that would surpass all others in purity
+of tone, and that should render his own name immortal.</p>
+
+<p>He was required to cast a bell for the Magdalen Church tower of that city
+of noble churches,&mdash;Breslau. He felt that this was opportunity for his masterpiece.
+All of his thoughts centred on the Magdalen bell.</p>
+
+<p>After a long period of preparation, his metals were arranged for use. The
+form was walled up and made steady; the melting of the metals in the great
+bell-kettle had begun.</p>
+
+<p>The old bell-founder had two faults which had grown upon him; a love of
+ale and a fiery temper.</p>
+
+<p>While the metals were heating in the kettle, he said to his fire-watch, a
+little boy,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tend the kettle for a moment; I am overwrought: I must go over to the
+inn, and take my ale, and nerve me for the casting.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But, boy,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;touch not the stopple; if you do, you shall rue it.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
+That bell is my life, I have put all I have learned in life into it. If any man
+were to touch that stopple, I would strike him dead.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 343px;">
+<a name="finishing_the_bell" id="finishing_the_bell"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl092.jpg" width="343" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">FINISHING THE BELL.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 345px;">
+<a name="at_the_inn" id="at_the_inn"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl093.jpg" width="345" height="500"
+alt="The bell-maker waits for a tankard of beer" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AT THE INN.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The boy had an over-sensitive, nervous temperament. He was easily excited,
+and was subject to impulses that he could not easily control.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
+The command that he should not touch the stopple, under the dreadful
+penalty, strongly affected his mind, and made him wish to do the very thing
+he had been forbidden.</p>
+
+<p>He watched the metal in the great kettle. It bubbled, billowed, and ran to
+and fro. In the composition of the
+glowing mass he knew that his master
+had put his heart and soul.</p>
+
+<p>It would be a bold thing to touch
+the stopple,&mdash;adventurous. His
+hand began to move towards it.</p>
+
+<p>The evil impulse grew, and his
+hand moved on.</p>
+
+<p>He touched the stopple. The
+impulse was a wild passion now,&mdash;he
+turned it.</p>
+
+<p>Then his mind grew dark&mdash;he
+was filled with horror. He ran to
+his master.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have turned the stopple; I
+could not help it,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The
+Devil tempted me!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The old bell-founder clasped his
+hands and looked upward in agony.
+Then his temper flashed over him.
+He seized his knife, and stabbed the
+boy to the heart.</p>
+
+<p>He rushed back to the foundry,
+hoping to stay the stream. He found
+the metal whole; the turning of the
+stopple had not caused the metal to
+flow.</p>
+
+<p>The boy lay dead on the ground.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 212px;">
+<a name="the_day_of_execution" id="the_day_of_execution"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl094.jpg" width="212" height="400"
+alt="A crowd of people examine the proclamation" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE DAY OF EXECUTION.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The old bell-founder knew the
+consequences of his act, and he did
+not seek to escape them. He cast
+the bell; then he went to the magistrates, and said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;My work is done; but I am a murderer. Do with me as you will.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The trial was short; it greatly excited the city. The judges could not do
+otherwise than sentence him to death. But as he was penitent, he was
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>
+promised that on the day of his execution he should receive the offices and consolations
+of the Church.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are good,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;But grant me another favor. My bells will
+delight many ears when I am gone; my soul is in them; grant me another
+favor.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Name it,&rdquo; said the judges.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That I may hear the sound of my new bell before I die.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The judges consulted, and answered,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It shall toll for your execution.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The fatal day came.</p>
+
+<p>Toll, toll, toll!</p>
+
+<p>There was a sadness in the tone of the bell that touched every heart in
+Breslau. The bell seemed human.</p>
+
+<p>Toll, toll, toll!</p>
+
+<p>How melodious! how perfect! how beautiful! The very air seemed
+charmed! The years would come and go, and this bell would be the tongue
+of Breslau!</p>
+
+<p>The old man came forth. He had forgotten his fate in listening to the bell.
+The heavy clang was so melodious that it filled his heart with joy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;That is it! that is it; my heart, my life!&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I know all the
+metals; I made the voice! Ring on, ring on forever! Ring in holy days, and
+happy festivals, and joy eternal to Breslau.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Toll, toll, toll!</p>
+
+<p>On passed the white-haired man, listening still to the call of the bell that
+summoned him to death.</p>
+
+<p>He bowed his head at the place of execution to meet the stroke just as the
+last tone of the bell melted upon the air. His soul passed amid the silvery
+echoes. The bell rings on.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ay, of all bells that ever<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He cast, is this the crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bell of Church St. Magdalen<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">At Breslau in the town.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was, from that time forward,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Baptized the Sinner&rsquo;s Bell;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whether it still is called so,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is more than I can tell.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;There is a sadness in the bells of the Rhine,&rdquo; continued Mr.
+Beal, &ldquo;as they ring from old belfries at evening under the ruins of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
+the castles on the hills. The lords of the Rhine that once heard
+them are gone forever. The vineyards creep up the hills on the light
+trellises, and the sun and the earth, as it were, fill the grapes with
+wine. The woods are as green as of old. The rafts go drifting down
+the light waves as on feet of air. But the river of history is changed,
+and one feels the spirit of the change with deep sadness as one listens
+to the bells.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE LIGHTS HAVE GONE OUT IN THE CASTLE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">I.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The boatmen strike lightly the zither<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As they drift &rsquo;neath the hillsides of green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But gone from the Rhine is the palgrave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And gone is the palgravine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Play lightly, play lightly, O boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">When the shadows of night round thee fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the lights have gone out in the castle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The lights have gone out in the hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Rhine waters silently flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The old bells ring solemn and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman, play lightly and low.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">II.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Awake the old runes on the zither,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O boatman! the lips of the Rhine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still kiss the green ruins of ivy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And smile on the vineyards of wine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Play lightly, play lightly, O boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">When the shadows of night round thee fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the lights have gone out in the castle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The lights have gone out in the hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Rhine waters silently flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The old bells ring solemn and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman, play lightly and low.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 443px;">
+<a name="above_the_town" id="above_the_town"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl095.jpg" width="443" height="600"
+alt="A large rock outcrop on a hilltop" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">ABOVE THE TOWN.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
+<span class="i8">III.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The lamps of the stars shine above thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As they shone when the vineyards were green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the long vanished days of the palgrave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In the days of the palgravine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Play lightly, thy life tides are flowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Thy fate in the palgrave&rsquo;s recall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the lights have gone out in the castle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">The lights have gone out in the hall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the Rhine waters silently flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the old bells ring solemn and slow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman,<br /></span>
+<span class="i7">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Play lightly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">O boatman, play lightly and low.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The narratives of the evening devoted to the Bells on the Rhine
+were closed by a story by Master Lewis.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I do not often relate stories,&rdquo; he said; &ldquo;but I have a German
+story in mind, the lesson of which has been helpful to my experience.
+It is a legend and a superstition, and one that is not as generally
+familiar to the readers of popular books as are many that have been
+told at these meetings. I think you will like it, and that you will
+not soon forget it.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">&ldquo;TO-MORROW.&rdquo;</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Once&mdash;many years, perhaps centuries ago&mdash;a young German student,
+named Lek, was travelling from Leipsig to the Middle Rhine. His journey
+was made on foot, and a part of it lay through the Thuringian Forest.</p>
+
+<p>He rested one night at the old walled town of Saalfeld, visited the ruins of
+Sorenburg, and entered one of the ancient roads then greatly frequented, but
+less used now, on account of the shorter and swifter avenues of travel.</p>
+
+<p>Towards evening he ascended a hill, and, looking down, was surprised to
+discover a quaint town at the foot, of which he had never heard.</p>
+
+<p>It was summer; the red sun was going down, and the tree-tops of the vast
+forests, moved by a gentle wind, seemed like the waves of the wide sea. Lek
+was a lover of the beautiful expressions of Nature, of the poetry of the forests,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>
+hills, and streams; and he sat down on a rock, under a spreading tree, to see
+the sunset flame and fade, and the far horizons sink into the shadows and
+disappear.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have made a good journey to-day,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and whatever the strange
+town below me may be, it will be safe for me to spend the night there. I see
+that it has a church and an inn.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Lek had travelled much over Germany, but he had never before seen a
+town like the one below him. It wore an air of strange antiquity,&mdash;as a town
+might look that had remained unchanged for many hundred years. An old
+banner hung out from a quaint steepled building; but it was unlike any of
+modern times, national or provincial.</p>
+
+<p>The fires of sunset died away; clouds, like smoke, rose above them, and
+a deep shadow overspread the forests. Lek gathered up his bundles, and
+descended the hill towards the town. As he was
+hurrying onward he met a strange-looking man in
+a primitive habit,&mdash;evidently a villager. Lek
+asked him the name of the place.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger looked at him sadly and with
+surprise, and answered in a dialect that he did
+not wholly understand; but he guessed at the last
+words, and rightly.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Why do you wish to know?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I am a traveller,&rdquo; answered Lek, &ldquo;and I must
+remain there until to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">To-morrow!</span>&rdquo; said the man, throwing up his
+hands. &ldquo;To-morrow! For <em>us</em>,&rdquo; pointing to himself,
+&ldquo;there is no to-morrow. I must hurry on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He strode away towards a faded cottage on
+the outskirts of the town, leaving Lek to wonder
+what his mysterious answer could mean.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 225px;">
+<a name="old_peasant_costume1" id="old_peasant_costume1"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl096.jpg" width="225" height="400"
+alt="A man, wearing shirt, waistcoat and knee breeches, with greatcoat, long boots and tall hat" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">OLD PEASANT COSTUME.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Lek entered the town. The people were
+strange to him; every one seemed to be in a
+hurry. Men and women were talking rapidly, like
+travellers when taking leave of their friends for
+a long journey. Indeed, so earnest were their words that they seemed hardly
+to notice him at all.</p>
+
+<p>He presently met an old woman on a crutch, hurrying along the shadowy
+street.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 488px;">
+<a name="the_old_city" id="the_old_city"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl097.jpg" width="488" height="500" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE OLD CITY.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Is this the way to the inn?&rdquo; he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The old one hobbled on. He followed her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is this the way to the inn? I wish to remain there until to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The cripple turned on her crutch.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">To-morrow!</span>&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Who are you that talk of to-morrow? All the
+gold of the mountains could not buy a to-morrow. Go back to your own, young
+man! they may have to-morrows; but my time is short,&mdash;I must hurry on.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Away hobbled the dame; and Lek, wondering at her answer, entered what
+seemed to him the principal street.</p>
+
+<p>He came at length to the inn; a faded structure, and antique, like a picture
+of the times of old. There men were drinking and talking;
+men in gold lace, and with long purses filled with
+ancient coin.</p>
+
+<p>The landlord was evidently a rich old fellow; he had
+a girdle of jewels, and was otherwise habited much like
+a king.</p>
+
+<p>He stared at Lek; so did his jovial comrades.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Can you give a stranger hospitality until to-morrow?&rdquo;
+asked the young student, bowing.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Until <small>TO-MORROW</small>! Ha, ha, ha!&rdquo; laughed the innkeeper.
+&ldquo;He asks for hospitality until to-morrow!&rdquo; he
+added to his six jolly companions.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;To-morrow&mdash;ha, ha, ha!&rdquo; echoed one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha, ha, ha!&rdquo; repeated another.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ha, ha, ha!&rdquo; chorused the others, slapping their
+hands on their knees. &ldquo;To-morrow!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Then a solemn look came into the landlord&rsquo;s face.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Young man,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you know, have you
+not heard? <em>We</em> have no to-morrows; our nights are
+long, long slumbers; each one is a hundred years.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 173px;">
+<a name="old_peasant_costume2" id="old_peasant_costume2"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl098.jpg" width="173" height="400"
+alt="A woman wearing a simple dress, overdress and shoes, carrying a plain bonnet" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">OLD PEASANT COSTUME.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The six men were talking now, and the landlord
+turned from Lek and joined in the conversation eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>The shadows of the long twilight deepened. Men and women ran to and
+fro in the streets. Every one seemed in a hurry, as though much must be said
+and done in a brief time.</p>
+
+<p>Presently a great bell sounded in a steeple. The hurrying people paused.
+Each one uplifted his or her hands, waved them in a circle, and cried,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Alas! <span class="smcap">To-morrow!</span> Hurry, good men, all, good women, all, hurry!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
+What did it mean? &ldquo;Have I gone mad?&rdquo; asked Lek. &ldquo;Am I dreaming?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Near the inn was a green, parched and faded. In the centre was a withered
+tree; under it was a maiden. She was very fair; her dress was of silk and
+jewels, and on her arms were heavy bracelets of gold. Unlike the other people,
+she did not seem hurried and anxious. She appeared to take little interest in
+the strangely stimulated activities around her.</p>
+
+<p>Lek went to her.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Pardon a poor student seeking information,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Your people all
+treat me rudely and strangely; they will not listen to me. I am a traveller, and
+I came here civilly, and only asked for food and lodging until to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<span class="smcap">To-morrow!</span> The word is a terror to most of them; it is no terror to
+me. I care not for to-morrows,&mdash;they are days of disappointments; I had them
+once,&mdash;I am glad they do not
+come oftener to me. I shall
+go to sleep at midnight, here
+where I was deserted. You
+are a stranger, I see. You
+belong to the world; every day
+has its to-morrow. Go away,
+away to your own people, and
+to your own life of to-morrows.
+This is no place for you here.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>Again the bell sounded.
+The hurrying people stopped
+again in the street, and waved
+their hands wildly, and cried,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Haste, haste, good men,
+all, good women, all. The hour
+is near. Good men, all, good
+women, all, hurry!&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 391px;">
+<a name="old_peasant_costumes" id="old_peasant_costumes"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl099.jpg" width="391" height="400"
+alt="An older couple, in slightly smarter clothing" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">OLD PEASANT COSTUMES.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>It was night now; but the
+full moon rose over the long
+line of hills, and behind it appeared a black cloud, from which darted tongues
+of red flame, followed by mutterings of thunder.</p>
+
+<p>The moon ascended the clear sky like a chariot, and the cloud seemed to
+follow her like an army,&mdash;an awful spectacle that riveted Lek&rsquo;s gaze and made
+him apprehensive.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A storm is coming,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I must stay here. Tell me, good maiden,
+where can I find food and shelter?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
+&ldquo;Have you a true heart?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I have a true heart. I have always been true to myself; and he who is
+true to himself is never unfaithful to God or his fellow-men.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then you will be saved when the hour comes. They only go down with
+us who are untrue. All true hearts have to-morrows.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The moon ascended higher, and her light, more resplendent, heightened the
+effect of the blackness of the rising
+cloud. The lightnings became
+more vivid, the thunder more distinct.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You are sure that your heart
+is true?&rdquo; said the maiden.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;By the Cross, it is true.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then I have a duty to do.
+Follow me.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>She rose and walked towards
+the hill from which Lek had
+come. Lek followed her. As he
+passed out of the town the bell
+sounded: it was the hour of
+eleven.</p>
+
+<p>The people stopped in the
+streets as before, waving their
+hands, and crying,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good men, all, good women,
+all, hurry! The hour is near.
+Good men, all, good women, all,
+hurry!&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 332px;">
+<a name="city_gate" id="city_gate"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl100.jpg" width="332" height="400"
+alt="A heavy stone gatehouse at the end of a bridge" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CITY GATE.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>The maiden ascended the hill to the very rock from which the student had
+first seen the town, and under which he had rested.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Sit you here,&rdquo; she said, &ldquo;and do not leave the place until the cocks crow
+for morning. A true heart never perished with the untrue. My duty is done.
+Farewell!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But the tempest?&rdquo; said the student. &ldquo;This is no place of shelter. Let
+me return with you, only until to-morrow.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>There burst upon the hill a terrific thunder-gust. The maiden was gone,
+the black cloud swept over the moon, and Lek could no longer discern the town
+in the valley. Everything around him grew dark. The air seemed to turn into
+a thick inky darkness.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
+Fearful flashes of lightning and terrific thunder followed. The wind bent
+the forest before it; but not a drop of rain fell.</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment&rsquo;s silence. The bell in the mysterious steeple smote
+upon the air. It was midnight.</p>
+
+<p>Another hush, as though Nature had ceased to breathe. Then a thunder-crash
+shook the hills,
+and seemed to cleave
+open the very earth.</p>
+
+<p>Lek crossed himself
+and fell upon his
+knees. The cloud
+passed swiftly. The
+moon came out again,
+revealing the lovely
+valley. <em>The village
+was gone.</em></p>
+
+<p>In the morning a
+cowherd came up the
+hill at the rising of the
+sun.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Good morrow,&rdquo;
+said Lek. &ldquo;That was
+a fearful tempest that
+we had at midnight.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I never heard
+such thunder,&rdquo; said
+the cowherd. &ldquo;I almost
+thought that the
+final day had come.
+You may well say it
+was a fearful night, my boy.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 356px;">
+<a name="the_neckar" id="the_neckar"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl101.jpg" width="356" height="400"
+alt="A covered wooden walkway over the water" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE NECKAR.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;But what has become of the village that was in the valley yesterday?&rdquo;
+asked Lek.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There is no village in the valley,&rdquo; said the cowherd. &ldquo;There never was
+but one. That was sunk hundreds of years ago; if you saw any village there
+yesterday it was that: it comes up only once in a hundred years, and then it
+remains for only a single day. Woe betide the traveller that stops there <em>that</em>
+day. Unless he have a true heart, he goes down with the town at midnight.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
+The town was cursed because it waxed rich, and became so wicked that there
+was found in it but one heart that was true.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell me about this strange village,&rdquo; said Lek, in fear and awe, recalling his
+adventure. &ldquo;I never before heard of a thing so mysterious.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is a sorry story. I will tell it as I have heard it.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The hills of Reichmanndorf used to abound with gold, and the people of
+the old town all became rich; but their riches did not make them happy and
+contented. It made them untrue.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The more their wealth increased, the more unfaithful they became, until
+the men met in the market-place daily to defraud each other, and the women&rsquo;s
+only purpose in life was to display their vanity.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;At the inn were nightly carousals. The young men thought only of their
+gains and dissipations. Men were untrue to their families, and lovers to their
+vows.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Sabbath was not kept. The old priest, Van Ness, said masses to the
+empty aisles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In those evil days lived one Frederic Wollin. He was a brave man, and
+his soul was true.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was the custom of this good man to instruct the people in the market-place.
+But at last none came to hear him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;One day, near Christmas, the council met. Wine flowed; rude jests went
+round. The question was discussed as to how these days of selfish delights
+might be made perpetual.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A great cry arose:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Banish the holy days: then all our to-morrows will be as to-day!&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Then Wollin arose and faced the people. His appearance was met by a
+tumult, and his words increased the hatred long felt against him.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;The days of evil have no to-morrows.&rsquo; he said. &lsquo;He that liveth to himself
+is dead.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;&lsquo;Give him a holy day once in a hundred years!&rsquo; cried one.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The voice was hailed with cheers. The council voted that all future days
+should be as that day, except that Wollin and the old priest, Van Ness, should
+have a holy day once in a hundred years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Christmas came. No bell was rung; no chant was heard. Easter brought
+flowers to the woods, but none to the altar. Purple Pentecost filled the forest
+villages with joy; but here no one cared to recall the descent of the celestial
+fire except the old priest and Wollin.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It was such a night as last night when Van Ness and Wollin came out of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+the church for the last time. The people were drinking at the inn, and dancing
+upon the green. Spring was changing into deep summer; the land was filled
+with blooms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A party of young men who had been carousing, on seeing Wollin come
+from the church, set upon him, and compelled him to leave the town. He came
+up this hill. When he had reached the top, he paused and lifted his face
+towards heaven, and stretched out his hand. As he did so, a sharp sound rent
+the valley, and caused the hills to tremble. He looked down. The village had
+disappeared. Only Van Ness was standing by his side.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But as the villagers had promised Wollin a holy day once in a hundred
+years, so once in a hundred years these people are permitted to rise with
+their village into the light of the sun for a single day. If on that day a stranger
+visits them whose heart is untrue he disappears with them at midnight. Such
+is the story. You will hardly believe it true.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The student crossed himself, and went on his journey towards the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;<em>They</em> have one day in a hundred years,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;How precious must
+that one day be to them! If I enter the ways of evil, and my heart becomes
+untrue, shall <em>I</em> have <em>one</em> day in one hundred years when life is ended and my
+account to Heaven is rendered?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He thought. He read the holy books. He tried to find a single hope for
+an untrue soul; but he could discover none.</p>
+
+<p>Then he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The days of evil have no to-morrows,&mdash;no, not once in a hundred years.
+Only good deeds have to-morrows. I will be true: so shall to-morrows open
+and close like golden doors until time is lost in the eternal.&rdquo; And his heart
+remained true.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SONGS OF THE RHINE.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Watchman&rsquo;s Song.&mdash;The Wild Hunt of L&uuml;tzow.&mdash;The Author of the Erl
+King.&mdash;Beethoven&rsquo;s Boyhood.&mdash;The Organ-Tempest of Lucerne.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapr"><span class="dropcap">R</span></span>HINELAND is the land of song. It is the wings
+of song that have given it its fame. Every town
+on the Rhine has its own songs; every mountain,
+hill, and river.</p>
+
+<p>America has few local songs,&mdash;few songs of
+the people. The singers who give voices to rivers,
+lakes, mountains, and valleys have not yet appeared. The local poets
+and singers of America are yet to come.</p>
+
+<p>In England, Germany, and some of the provinces of France, every
+temple, stream, and grove has had its sweet singer.</p>
+
+<p>Go to Basle, and you may hear the clubs singing the heroic songs
+of Alsace and Lorraine.</p>
+
+<p>Go to Heidelberg, and you may listen to student-songs through
+which breathe the national spirit of hundreds of years.</p>
+
+<p>The bands tell the story, legend, or romance of such towns at night,
+wherever they may play.</p>
+
+<p>In one of the public grounds to which the Class went for an evening
+rest, one of the bands was playing the <i>Fremersberg</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It related an old romance of the region of Baden-Baden: how that
+a nobleman was once wandering with his dogs in the mountains, and
+was overtaken by a storm; how he was about to perish when he heard
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
+the distant sounds of a monastery bell; how, following the direction
+of the sound, he heard a chant of priests; and how, at last, he was
+saved.</p>
+
+<p>The piece was full of melody. The wind, the rain, the horns, the
+bells, the chant, while they told a story, were all delightfully melodious.</p>
+
+<p>The ballad is almost banished from the intellectual American
+concert-rooms. In Germany a ballad is a gem, and is so valued. It
+is the best expression of national life and feeling.</p>
+
+<p>The Class went to hear one of Germany&rsquo;s greatest singers. She
+sang an heroic selection, and was recalled. Her first words on the
+recall hushed the audience: it was a ballad of the four stages of life.
+It began with an incident of a child dreaming under a rosebush:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Sweetly it sleeps and on dream wings flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To play with the angels in Paradise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the years glide by.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>as an English translation gives it.</p>
+
+<p>In the last stanza, the child having passed through the stages of
+life, was represented as again sleeping under a rosebush. The withered
+leaves fall upon his grave.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Withered and dead they fall to the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And silently cover a new-made mound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the years glide by.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>These last lines were rendered so softly, yet distinctly, that they
+seemed like tremulous sounds in the air. The singer&rsquo;s face hardly
+appeared to move; every listener was like a statue. The silence was
+almost painful and impressive. One could but feel this was indeed
+art, and not a pretentious affectation of it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 436px;">
+<a name="an_old_german_town" id="an_old_german_town"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl102.jpg" width="436" height="600"
+alt="An imposing building overshadows cobbled streets" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">AN OLD GERMAN TOWN.</p>
+
+<p>The reign of the organ as the monarch of musical instruments
+began with Charlemagne, and nearly all of the towns on the Rhine
+have historic organs. Many of the organ pieces are local compositions
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
+and imitative. On the great organs at Basle and Frieburg the
+imitation of storms is sometimes produced.</p>
+
+<p>None of these storm-pieces, however, equal that which is daily
+played in summer on the organ of Lucerne. This organ tempest
+more greatly excited the Class than any music that they heard during
+their journeys; and Master Beal made a record of it in verse, which
+we give at the close of the chapter.</p>
+
+<p>The children of Germany learn to read music at the same age that
+they learn to read books. Music
+is a part of their primary
+school&mdash;Kindergarten&mdash;education.
+The poorest children
+are taught to sing.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_rhinefels" id="the_rhinefels"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl103.jpg" width="500" height="310" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE RHINEFELS.</p>
+
+<p>The consequence is that the Germans are a nation of singers.
+The organ is a power in the church, the military band at the festival,
+and the ballad in the concert-room and the home.</p>
+
+<p>These ballad-loving people are familiar with the best music. To
+them music is a language. Says Mayhew, in his elaborate work on
+the Rhine, in speaking of the free education in music in Germany:
+&ldquo;To tickle the gustatory nerves with either dainty food or drink costs
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
+some money; but to be able to reproduce the harmonious combinations
+of a Beethoven or a Weber, or to make the air tremble melodiously
+with some sweet and simple ballad, or even to recall the sonorous
+solemnities of some prayerful chorus or fine thanksgiving in an oratorio,
+is not only to fill the heart and brain with affections too deep
+for words, but it is to be able to taste as high a pleasure as the soul
+is capable of knowing, and yet one that may be had positively for
+nothing.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>It is to be regretted that so much of the good music of Germany
+is performed in the beer-gardens. The too free use of the glass and
+the pipe cannot tend to make the nation strong for the future; and
+one cannot long be charmed with the music and mirth of such places
+without fearing for the losses that may follow.</p>
+
+<p>All trades and occupations have their own songs, even the humblest.
+Take for example the pleasing Miller&rsquo;s Song, which catches the
+spirit of his somewhat poetic yet homely calling:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;To wander is the miller&rsquo;s joy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To wander!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What kind of miller must he be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who ne&rsquo;er hath yearned to wander free?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To wander!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;From water we have learned it, yes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">From water!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It knows no rest by night or day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But wanders ever on its way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Does water.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;We see it by the mill-wheels, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mill-wheels!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They ne&rsquo;er repose, nor brook delay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They weary not the livelong day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mill-wheels.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;The stones, too, heavy though they be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The stones, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Round in the giddy circle dance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ee&rsquo;n fain more quickly would advance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The stones would.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;To wander, wander, my delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To wander!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O master, mistress, on my way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me in peace depart to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And wander!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="author smcap">Wilhelm M&uuml;ller.</p>
+
+<p class="smlpadt">The watchman, too, has his peculiar songs. One of these is very
+solemn and stately. A favorite translation of it begins:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Hark ye, neighbors, and hear me tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><em>Eight</em> now strikes the loud church bell.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>An almost literal translation thus reproduces the grand themes
+which were made to remind the old guardians of the night in their
+ghostly vigils:&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE WATCHMAN&rsquo;S SONG.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of eight, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eight souls alone from death were kept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When God the earth with deluge swept:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of nine, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nine lepers cleansed returned not;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be not thy blessings, man, forgot!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of ten, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ten precepts show God&rsquo;s holy will;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh, may we prove obedient still!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour eleven, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eleven apostles remained true;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May we be like that faithful few!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of twelve, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Twelve is of Time the boundary;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, think upon eternity!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of one, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One God alone reigns over all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nought can without his will befall:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of two, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two ways to walk has man been given:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Teach me the right,&mdash;the path to heaven!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of three, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three Gods in one, exalted most,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless the Lord to guard us deign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man wakes and watches all in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Lord! through thine all-prevailing might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Do thou vouchsafe us a good night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hark, while I sing! our village clock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hour of four, good sirs, has struck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Four seasons crown the farmer&rsquo;s care;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy heart with equal toil prepare!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up, up! awake, nor slumber on!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The morn approaches, night is gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Thank God, who by his power and might<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Has watched and kept us through this night!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">The Class devoted an autumn evening to singing the songs of the
+Rhine; the &ldquo;Watch on the Rhine,&rdquo; the &ldquo;Loreley,&rdquo; the student-songs,
+folk-songs, and some of the chorals of Luther. The song that proved
+most inspiring was the &ldquo;Wild Chase of L&uuml;tzow.&rdquo; Master Beal
+awakened a deep interest in this song before it was sung, by relating
+its history.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">&ldquo;THE WILD HUNT OF L&Uuml;TZOW.&rdquo;</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>All musical ears are familiar with the refrain: &ldquo;Yes, &rsquo;tis the hunt of L&uuml;tzow
+the free and the bold,&rdquo;&mdash;if not with these exact words, with other words of
+the same meaning. The music of C. M. Von Weber has carried the &ldquo;hunt&rdquo; of
+L&uuml;tzow over the world. The song and music alike catch the spirit and the
+movement of a corps of cavalry bent on the destruction of an enemy. One
+sees the flying horsemen in the poem, and hears them in the music. It was
+one of the few martial compositions that starts one to one&rsquo;s feet, and stirs one&rsquo;s
+blood with the memory of heroic achievements.</p>
+
+<p>I will give you one of the most vigorous translations. Longfellow has
+adopted it in his &ldquo;Poems of Places.&rdquo; It catches the spirit of the original, and
+very nearly reproduces the original thought.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">L&Uuml;TZOW&rsquo;S WILD CHASE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What gleams from yon wood in the bright sunshine?<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hark! nearer and nearer &rsquo;tis sounding;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It hurries along, black line upon line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the shrill-voiced horns in the wild chase join,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The soul with dark horror confounding:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the black troopers&rsquo; name you&rsquo;d know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger,&mdash;a-hunting they go!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="mayence_in_the_olden_time" id="mayence_in_the_olden_time"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl104.jpg" width="500" height="407" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">MAYENCE IN THE OLDEN TIME.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">From hill to hill, through the dark wood they hie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And warrior to warrior is calling;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind the thick bushes in ambush they lie,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rifle is heard, and the loud war-cry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In rows the Frank minions are falling:<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the black troopers&rsquo; name you&rsquo;d know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger,&mdash;a-hunting they go!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the bright grapes glow, and the Rhine rolls wide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">He weened they would follow him never;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the pursuit came like the storm in its pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sinewy arms they parted the tide,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And reached the far shore of the river;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the dark swimmers&rsquo; name you&rsquo;d know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger,&mdash;a-hunting they go!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How roars in the valley the angry fight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Hark! how the keen swords are clashing!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">High-hearted Ritter are fighting the fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spark of Freedom awakens bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And in crimson flames it is flashing:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the dark Ritters&rsquo; name you&rsquo;d know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger,&mdash;a-hunting they go!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Who gurgle in death, &rsquo;mid the groans of the foe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No more the bright sunlight seeing?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The writhings of death on their face they show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But no terror the hearts of the freemen know.<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the Franzmen are routed and fleeing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the dark heroes&rsquo; name you&rsquo;d know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger,&mdash;a-hunting they go!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The chase of the German, the chase of the free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">In hounding the tyrant we strained it!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ye friends, that love us, look up with glee!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The night is scattered, the dawn we see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though we with our life-blood have gained it!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from sire to son the tale shall go:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Twas L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s wild J&auml;ger that routed the foe!<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>L&uuml;tzow, the cavalry hero of Prussia, in the German war for freedom against
+the rule of Napoleon, was born in 1782. He was a famous hunter, and when
+Europe arose against Bonaparte in 1813, he called for volunteers of adventurous
+spirit for cavalry service: &ldquo;hunters&rdquo; of the enemy, who should hang about the
+French army, and, with the destructive vigilance of birds or beasts of prey,
+give the enemy no rest on the German side of the Rhine.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
+The boldest young men of Germany rushed to L&uuml;tzow; noblemen, students,
+foresters. His corps of cavalry became the terror of the French army.
+The enemy could never tell where they would be found.</p>
+
+<p>Among the young volunteers was K&ouml;rner, the young German poet. He
+was a slender young man; but he had an heroic soul, and the cavalry corps of
+the fiery L&uuml;tzow seemed to him the place for it. He joined the &ldquo;wild hunters&rdquo;
+in 1813.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Germany rises,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;The Prussian eagle beats her wings; there is
+hope of freedom.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I know what happiness can fruit for me in life; I know that the star of
+fortune shines upon me; but a mighty feeling and conviction animates me: no
+sacrifice can be too great for my country&rsquo;s freedom!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The words glow.</p>
+
+<p>He added,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I must forth,&mdash;I must oppose my breast to the storm. Can I celebrate
+the deeds of others in song, and not dare with them the danger?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>K&ouml;rner&rsquo;s battle-songs became firebrands. He consecrated himself to his
+country in the village church near Zobten. He wrote the battle-hymn for the
+occasion, which was a service for the departing volunteers.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We swore,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;the oath of fidelity to our cause. I fell upon my
+knees and implored God&rsquo;s blessing. The oath was repeated by all, and the
+officers swore it on their swords. Then Martin Luther&rsquo;s &lsquo;A Mighty Fortress
+is our God&rsquo; concluded the ceremony.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He wrote a thrilling war-song on the morning of the battle of Danneberg,
+May 12, 1813. It ended with these words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Hark! hear ye the shouts and the thunders before ye?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On, brothers, on, to death and to glory!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We&rsquo;ll meet in another, a happier sphere!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>On May 28, 1813, Major Von L&uuml;tzow determined to set out on an expedition
+towards Thuringia, with his young cavalry and with Cossacks. K&ouml;rner
+begged to accompany him. L&uuml;tzow commissioned him as an officer. He was
+wounded, and left for a time helpless in a wood, on the 17th of June. In this
+condition he wrote his famous &ldquo;Farewell to Life.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;My deep wound burns,&rdquo; &amp;c.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>K&ouml;rner recovered, but was suddenly killed in an engagement on August
+26th.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
+The &ldquo;Sword Song&rdquo; of K&ouml;rner which Von Weber&rsquo;s music has made famous,
+was written a few hours before his death. It was an inspiration to the German
+cause.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;L&uuml;tzow&rsquo;s Wild Chase&rdquo; thrilled Prussia. Like the &ldquo;Watch on the Rhine&rdquo;
+in the recent war, it was the word that fired the national pride, and nerved men
+to deeds that crowned the cause with glory.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The Rhine! the Rhine!&rdquo; shouted the young German heroes at last, looking
+down on the river.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Is there a battle?&rdquo; asked the officers, dashing on in the direction of the
+shout.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;No, the enemy has gone over the Rhine,&rdquo; was the answer. &ldquo;The Rhine!
+the Rhine!&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">Mr. Beal introduced a number of selections from German composers,
+the loved tone-poets, with interesting stories and anecdotes.
+We reproduce a part of these musical incidents, as they properly
+belong to the history of the river of song.</p>
+
+<p>Taking up a selection from Schubert&rsquo;s famous symphony, he spoke
+feelingly of the author, and then gave some pictures of the lives of
+Beethoven and Bach.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE AUTHOR OF THE ERL KING.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Poor Schubert! The composer of what operas, symphonies, overtures,
+choruses, masses, cantatas, sonatas, fantasias, arias! What tenderness was in
+his soul!&mdash;Listen to the &ldquo;Last Greeting;&rdquo; what fancy and emotion! listen to
+the &ldquo;Fisher Maiden&rdquo; and &ldquo;Post Horn;&rdquo; what refinement! listen to the &ldquo;Serenade;&rdquo;
+what devotion! hear the &ldquo;Ave Maria&rdquo;!</p>
+
+<p>Dead at the age of thirty-one; dead after a life of neglect, leaving all these
+musical riches behind him!</p>
+
+<p>Franz Schubert was born at Himmelpfortgrand, in 1797. His father was a
+musician, but a poor man. Franz was placed at the age of eleven among the
+choir-boys of the Court Chapel, where he remained five years, absorbed in
+musical studies, and making himself the master of the leading instruments of
+the orchestra.</p>
+
+<p>To compose music was his life. His restless genius was ever at work;
+always seeking to produce something new, something better. The old masters,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
+and especially Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, were his sources of study and
+inspiration. Music became his world, and all outside of it was strange and
+unexplored. All of his moods found expression in music: his love, his hopes,
+his wit, his sadness, and his dreams.</p>
+
+<p>He seems to have composed his best works for the pure love of his art, with
+little thought of money or fame. Many of his best works he never heard performed.
+He left his manuscript scores scattered about his rooms, and so they
+were found in confusion after his decease.</p>
+
+<p>A monument was erected to his memory. On it is the following simple but
+touching inscription:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot">
+<p>&ldquo;The art of music buried here a rich possession, but yet far fairer hopes. Franz Schubert
+lies here. Born on the 30th of January, 1797, died on the 19th of November, 1828, thirty-one
+years old.&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>Fame almost failed to overtake him in life; his course was so rapid, and his
+works were so swiftly produced. It crowned his memory.</p>
+
+<p>Schubert&rsquo;s magnificent symphony in C is one of the most beautiful works
+of the kind ever written, and lovers of orchestral music always delight to find it
+on the programme of an evening concert. It is a charm, an enchantment; it
+awakens feelings that are only active in the soul under exceptional influences.
+Yet the listener does not know to what he is listening: it is all a mystery; no
+one can tell what the composer intended to express by this symphony. We
+know that the theme is a noble one,&mdash;but what? that the soul of the writer
+must have been powerfully moved during its composition,&mdash;by what influences?
+It is an enigma: each listener may guess at the theme, and each will associate
+it with the subject most in harmony with his own taste.</p>
+
+<p>In 1844 Robert Schumann, while looking over a heap of dusty manuscripts
+at Vienna, found this wonderful symphony, until then unknown. He was so
+much charmed with it that he sent it to Mendelssohn at Leipzig. It was there
+produced at the Gewandhaus concerts, won the admiration it deserved, and
+thence found its way to all the orchestras of the world. The youthful composer
+had been dead nearly twenty years when the discovery was made.</p>
+
+<p>One of the best known of the dramatic German ballads is the Erl King.</p>
+
+<p>The Erl King is Death. He rides through the night. He comes to a
+happy home, and carries away a child, galloping back to the mysterious land
+whence he came.</p>
+
+<p>In this ballad a father is represented as riding with a dying child under his
+cloak. The Erl King pursues them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
+Schubert gave the ballad its musical wings. I need not describe the music.
+It is on your piano. Let it tell the story.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">BEETHOVEN&rsquo;S BOYHOOD AT BONN.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Literary men have often produced their best works late in life. Longfellow
+cites some striking illustrations of this truth in <i>Morituri Salutamus</i>:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cato learned Greek at eighty; Sophocles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wrote his grand &OElig;dipus, and Simonides<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bore off the prize of verse from his compeers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When each had numbered more than fourscore years.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Theophrastus, at fourscore and ten,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had but begun his Characters of Men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chaucer, at Woodstock with the nightingales,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At sixty wrote the Canterbury Tales;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Goethe at Weimar, toiling to the last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Completed Faust when eighty years were past.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Such examples of late working are seldom found in musical art. Men seem
+to become musicians because of the inspiration born within them. This impelling
+force is very early developed.</p>
+
+<p>Handel, the greatest musical composer of his own or any age, was so devoted
+to music in childhood that his father forbade his musical studies. At the age
+of eleven he as greatly delighted and surprised Frederick I. of Prussia by his
+inspirational playing; he was in youth appointed to a conspicuous position of
+organist in Halle.</p>
+
+<p>Haydn surprised his friends by his musical talents at his <em>fifth</em> year. He
+had a voice of wonderful purity, sweetness, and compass, and was received as a
+choir-boy at St. Stephen&rsquo;s Church, Vienna.</p>
+
+<p>Mozart&rsquo;s childhood is a household story. He was able to produce chords on
+the harpsichord at the age of three, and wrote music with correct harmonies at
+the age of six. Gl&uuml;ck had made a musical reputation at the age of eighteen.</p>
+
+<p>Mendelssohn was a brilliant pianist at six, and gave concerts at nine. Verdi
+was appointed musical director at Milan in youth. Rossini composed an opera
+at the age of sixteen, and ceased to compose music at forty.</p>
+
+<p>No other art exhibits such remarkable developments of youthful genius;
+though many eminent poets like Pindar, Cowley, Pope, Mrs. Hemans, L. E. L.,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+have written well in early youth. Music is a flower that blossoms early, and
+bears early fruit.</p>
+
+<p>Music may justly be called the art of youth.</p>
+
+<p>Beethoven was born at Bonn on
+the Rhine, 1770. He lived here
+twenty-two years. His musical
+character was formed here.</p>
+
+<p>Beethoven was put at the harpsichord
+at the age of four years.
+He was able to play the most difficult
+music in every key at twelve
+years; and was appointed one of
+the court organists when fifteen.</p>
+
+<p>The boy received this appointment,
+which was in the chapel of
+the Elector of Cologne, by the influence
+of Count Waldstein, who
+had discovered his genius. Here
+he was the organ prince.</p>
+
+<p>The following curious anecdote
+is told of his skill at the organ:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;On the last three days of the
+passion week the Lamentations of
+the Prophet Jeremiah were always
+chanted; these consisted of passages
+of from four to six lines, and
+they were sung in no particular
+time. In the middle of each sentence,
+agreeably to the old choral
+style, a <em>rest</em> was made upon one
+note, which rest the player on the
+piano (for the organ was not used
+on those three days) had to fill up
+with a voluntary flourish.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 225px;">
+<a name="beethovens_home_at_bonn" id="beethovens_home_at_bonn"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl105.jpg" width="225" height="400" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">BEETHOVEN&rsquo;S HOME AT BONN.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;Beethoven told Heller, a singer at the chapel who was boasting of his
+professional cleverness, that he would engage, that very day, to put him out, at
+such a place, without his being aware of it, so that he should not be able to
+proceed. He accepted the wager; and Beethoven, when he came to a passage
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
+that suited his purpose, led the singer, by an adroit modulation, out of the
+prevailing mode into one having no affinity with it, still, however, adhering to
+the tonic of the former key; so that the singer, unable to find his way in this
+strange region was brought to a dead stand.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Exasperated by the laughter of those around him, Heller complained to
+the elector, who (to use Beethoven&rsquo;s expression) &lsquo;gave him a most gracious
+reprimand, and bade him not play any more such clever tricks.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>At Bonn young Beethoven devoted himself almost wholly to the organ.
+The memories of the Rhine filled his life, which ended so sadly on the Danube.
+Bonn and Beethoven are as one name to the English or American tourist.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE FATHER OF ORGAN MUSIC.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Bach, the greatest organist and composer of organ music of the last century,
+was born at Eisenach, 1685, and had truly a remarkable history. His art
+was born in him. He wrote because he must write, and sung because he must
+sing.</p>
+
+<p>His father was a court musician, and had a twin brother who occupied the
+same situation, and so much resembled him that their wives could not tell them
+apart. These twin brothers produced music nearly alike; their dispositions
+were identical; when one was ill, the other was so likewise, and both died at
+the same time.</p>
+
+<p>John Sebastian Bach was the brightest ornament of this music-loving family.
+His parents died in his boyhood, and his musical education was undertaken by
+his eldest brother, a distinguished organist. He fed on music as food.</p>
+
+<p>An incident will show his spirit. He was eager to play more difficult music
+than his brother assigned. He noticed that his brother had a book of especially
+difficult pieces; and he begged to be allowed to use it, but was denied. This
+book was kept locked in a cupboard, which had an opening just wide enough to
+admit the boy&rsquo;s thin hand. He was able to reach it, and, by rolling it in a certain
+way, to bring it out and replace it without unlocking the door. He began
+to copy it by moonlight, as no candle was allowed him in the evening, and in
+six months had reproduced in this manner the whole of the music. About this
+time his brother died, and the friendless lad engaged himself as a choir-singer,
+which gave him a temporary support.</p>
+
+<p>Organ-music became a passion with him. He determined, at whatever sacrifice,
+to make himself the master of the instrument. He might go hungry, lose
+the delights of society; but the first organist in Germany he would be: nothing
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
+should be allowed to stand in the way of this purpose in life. He studied
+all masters. He made a long journey on foot to Lubeck to hear a great German
+master play the organ; and when he heard him, he remained three months
+an unknown and secret auditor in the church.</p>
+
+<p>A youth in which a single aim governs life early arrives at the harvest.
+Young manhood found Bach court organist in that Athens of Germany, Weimar.
+His fame grew until it reached the ears of Frederick the Great.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Old Bach has come,&rdquo; joyfully said the King to his musicians, on learning
+that the great organist arrived in town.</p>
+
+<p>He became blind in his last years, as did Handel. Ten days before his
+death his sight was suddenly restored, and he rejoiced at seeing the sunshine
+and the green earth again. A few hours after this strange occurrence, he was
+seized with an apoplectic fit. He died at the age of sixty-eight.</p>
+
+<p>His organ-playing was held to be one of the marvels of Germany. He
+made the organ as it were a part of his own soul; it expressed his thoughts
+like an interpreter, and swayed other hearts with the emotions of his own. His
+oratorios and cantatas were numbered by the hundred, many of which were produced
+only on a single occasion. His most enduring work is the Passion
+Music.</p>
+
+<p>In 1850 a Bach Society was formed in London, and a revival of the works
+of the master followed. Bach wrote five passions, but only one for two choirs.</p>
+
+<p>To the general audience much of the Passion music, as arranged for English
+choral societies, seems too difficult for appreciation; but the over-choir at the
+beginning, the expression of suffering and darkness, and the so-called earthquake
+choruses, with its sudden and stupendous effects, impress even the
+uneducated ear.</p>
+
+<p>The beauty and power of the oratorio as a work of art are felt in proportion
+to one&rsquo;s musical training; but as a sublime tone-sermon, all may feel its force,
+and dream that the awful tragedy it represents is passing before them.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="a_city_of_the_rhine" id="a_city_of_the_rhine"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl106.jpg" width="600" height="446" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A CITY OF THE RHINE.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE ORGAN-TEMPEST OF LUCERNE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We came to fair Lucerne at even,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How beauteous was the scene!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The snowy Alps like walls of heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rose o&rsquo;er the Alps of green;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The damask sky a roseate light<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Flashed on the Lake, and low<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Above Mt. Pilate&rsquo;s shadowy height<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Night bent her silver bow.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We turn&egrave;d towards the faded fane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">How many centuries old!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And entered as the organ&rsquo;s strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Along the arches rolled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such as when guardian spirits bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A soul to realms of light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And melts in the immortal air<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The anthem of their flight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then followed strains so sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">So sadly sweet and low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they seemed like memory&rsquo;s music,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the chords of long ago.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A light wind seemed to rise;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A deep gust followed soon,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As when a dark cloud flies<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Across the sun, at noon.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It filled the aisles,&mdash;each drew<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His garments round his form;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We could not feel the wind that blew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">We could only hear the storm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then we cast a curious eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towards the window&rsquo;s lights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw the lake serenely lie<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beneath the crystal heights.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair rose the Alps of white<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Above the Alps of green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The slopes lay bright in the sun of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the peaks in the sun unseen.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A deep sound shook the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As when the tempest breaks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the peaks, while sunshine fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Is dreaming in the lakes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The birds shrieked on their wing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When rose a wind so drear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its troubled spirit seemed to bring<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The shades of darkness near.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We looked towards the windows old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Calm was the eve of June,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the summits shone the twilight&rsquo;s gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And on Pilate shone the moon.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">A sharp note&rsquo;s lightning flash<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upturned the startled face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a mighty thunder-crash<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With horror filled the place!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From arch to arch the peal<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was echoed loud and long;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then o&rsquo;er the pathway seemed to steal<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Another seraph&rsquo;s song;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And &rsquo;mid the thunder&rsquo;s crash<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the song&rsquo;s enraptured flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We still could hear, with charm&egrave;d ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The organ playing low.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_river_of_song" id="the_river_of_song"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl107.jpg" width="500" height="263"
+alt="A landscape scene" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE RIVER OF SONG.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">As passed the thunder-peal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Came raindrops, falling near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A rain one could not feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A rain that smote the ear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And we turned to look again<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Towards the mountain wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When a deep tone shook the fane,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Like the avalanche&rsquo;s fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Loud piped the wind, fast poured the rain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The very earth seemed riven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wildly flashed, and yet again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The smiting fires of heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheeks that wore the light of smiles<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When slowly rose the gale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like pulseless statues lined the aisles<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And, as forms of marble, pale.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The organ&rsquo;s undertones<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Still sounded sweet and low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the calm of a more than mortal trust<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With the rhythms seemed to flow.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The Master&rsquo;s mirrored face<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Was lifted from the keys,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if more holy was the place<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As he touched the notes of peace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the sympathetic reeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">His chastened spirit caught,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the senses met the needs<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the touch of human thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The organ whispered sweet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The organ whispered low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Fear not, God&rsquo;s love is with thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Though tempests round thee blow!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the soul&rsquo;s grand power &rsquo;twas ours to trace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And its deathless hopes discern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As we gazed that night on the living face<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the Organ of Lucerne.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then from the church it passed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That strange and ghostly storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And a parting beam the twilight cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Through the windows, bright and warm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The music grew more clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Our gladdened pulses swaying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Alpine horns we seemed to hear<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On all the hillsides playing.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We left the church&mdash;how fair<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Stole on the eve of June!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cool Righi in the dusky air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The low-descending moon!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No breath the lake cerulean stirred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">No cloud could eye discern;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Alps were silent,&mdash;we had heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Organ of Lucerne.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Soon passed the night,&mdash;the high peaks shone<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A wall of glass and fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Morning, from her summer zone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Illumined tower and spire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I walked beside the lake again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Along the Alpine meadows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then sought the old melodious fane<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Beneath the Righi&rsquo;s shadows.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The organ, spanned by arches quaint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Rose silent, cold, and bare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like the pulseless tomb of a vanished saint:&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The Master was not there!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But the soul&rsquo;s grand power &rsquo;twas mine to trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And its deathless hopes discern,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I gazed that morn on the still, dead face<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the Organ of Lucerne.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>COPENHAGEN.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Copenhagen.&mdash;The Story of Ancient Denmark.&mdash;The Royal Family.&mdash;Story of
+a King who was out into a Bag.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapo"><span class="dropcap">O</span></span>N the Denmark Night Mr. Beal gave a short introductory
+talk on Copenhagen, and several of the
+boys related stories by Hans Christian Andersen.
+Master Lewis gave some account of the early history
+of Denmark and of the present Royal Family;
+and Herman Reed related an odd story of one of
+the early kings of Denmark.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Copenhagen, or the Merchants&rsquo; Haven, the capital of the island
+kingdom of Denmark, rises out of the coast of Zealand, and breaks
+the loneliness and monotony of a long coast line. It was a beautiful
+vision as we approached it in the summer evening hours of the high
+latitude,&mdash;evening only to us, for the sun was still high above the
+horizon. The spire of the Church of Our Saviour&mdash;three hundred
+feet high&mdash;appeared to stand against the sky. Palaces seemed to
+lift themselves above the sea as we steamed slowly towards the great
+historic city of the North.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The entrance to the harbor is narrow but deep. The harbor
+itself is full of ships; Copenhagen is the station of the Danish navy.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We passed very slowly through the water streets among the
+ships of the harbor,&mdash;for water streets they seemed,&mdash;and after a
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
+tedious landing, were driven through the crooked streets of a strange
+old town to a quiet hotel where some English friends we had met on
+the Continent were stopping.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The city is little larger than Providence, Rhode Island. Its
+public buildings are superb. It is an intellectual city, and its libraries
+are the finest of Europe.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_palace_of_rosenborg" id="the_palace_of_rosenborg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl108.jpg" width="500" height="410" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE PALACE OF ROSENBORG.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is divided into two parts, the old town and the new. In the
+new part are broad streets and fine squares.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the Rosenborg Palace, the old residence of the Danish
+kings;&mdash;it is only a show palace now. In the church we saw
+Thorwaldsen&rsquo;s statues of the Twelve Apostles, regarded as the finest
+of his works.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="view_of_copenhagen" id="view_of_copenhagen"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl109.jpg" width="600" height="417" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">VIEW OF COPENHAGEN.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p>
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STORY OF ANCIENT DENMARK.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>It is a strange, wild romance, the early history of the nations of the North.</p>
+
+<p>The Greeks and Romans knew but little about the Scandinavians. They
+knew that there was a people in the regions from which came the north winds.
+The north wind was very cold. Was there a region beyond the north wind? If
+so, how lovely it must be, where the cold winds never blow. They fancied that
+there was such a region. They called the inhabitants Hyperboreans, or the
+people beyond the north wind. They imagined also that in this region of eternal
+summer men did not die. If one of the Hyperboreans became tired of earth,
+he had to kill himself by leaping from a cliff.</p>
+
+<p>The Northmen, or the inhabitants of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, were
+of the same origin as the tribes that peopled Germany, and that came from the
+East, probably from the borders of the Black Sea. They were fire-worshippers,
+and their chief god was Odin.</p>
+
+<p>Denmark means <em>a land of dark woods</em>. In ancient times it was probably
+covered with sombre firs. One of its early kings was Dan the Famous. His
+descendants were called Danes.</p>
+
+<p>Many ages after the reign of this king, the land was filled with peace and
+plenty. It was the Golden Age of the North. Frode the Peaceful was king in
+the Golden Age. He ruled over all lands from Russia to the Rhine, and over
+two hundred and twenty kingdoms of two hundred and twenty subjugated kings.
+There was no wrong, nor want, nor thieves, nor beggars in the Golden Age.
+This happy period of Northern history was at that age of the world when Christ
+was born.</p>
+
+<p>According to the Scalds, the god Odin used to appear to men. He appeared
+the last time at the battle of Bravalla, a contest in which the Frisians, Wends,
+Finns, Lapps, Danes, Saxons, Jutes, Goths, and Swedes all were engaged. The
+dead were so thick on the field, after this battle, that their bodies reached to the
+axle-wheels of the chariots of the victors. At the time of this battle Christianity
+was being proclaimed in England. It was approaching the North. With
+the battle of Bravalla the mythic age of Denmark and the North comes to
+an end.</p>
+
+<p>I have told you something of Louis le Debonnaire, who went to die on a rock
+in the Rhine, that the waters might lull him to his eternal repose. He was a
+missionary king, and he desired nothing so much as the conversion of the world
+to Christ. He was the son of Charlemagne. &ldquo;It is nobler to convert souls
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
+than conquer kingdoms&rdquo; was his declaration of purpose. He sent missionary
+apostles to the North to convert Denmark. His missions at first were failures,
+but in the end they resulted in giving all the Northern crowns to Christ&rsquo;s kingdom,
+that Louis loved more than his own.</p>
+
+<p>The Danes in the Middle Ages became famous sea-kings. Before England,
+Denmark ruled the sea. One stormy day in December Gorm the Old appeared
+before Paris with seven hundred barks. He compelled the French king to sue
+for peace.</p>
+
+<p>The sea-kings conquered England. Canute the Dane was king of all the
+regions of the northwest of Europe. His kingdom embraced Denmark, England,
+Sweden, Norway, Scotland, and Cumberland. Such is the second wonderful
+period of Denmark&rsquo;s history.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE ROYAL FAMILY OF DENMARK.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>Royal people, as well as &ldquo;self-made men,&rdquo; often undergo remarkable changes
+of fortune. No one, however high or low, is free from the accidents of this
+world. All men have surprises, either good or bad, in store for them.</p>
+
+<p>Few families have experienced a more striking change in position than the
+present royal house of the little northern kingdom of Denmark. Twenty years
+ago, the present king, Christian IX., was a rather poor and obscure gentleman,
+of princely rank, to be sure, residing quietly in Copenhagen, and bringing up his
+fine family of boys and girls in a very domestic and economical fashion. He
+was only a remote cousin of Frederick VII., the reigning monarch, and he
+seemed little likely to come to the throne.</p>
+
+<p>But death somewhat suddenly prepared the way for him, so that when old
+Frederick died, in 1863, Christian found himself king.</p>
+
+<p>This, however, was but the beginning of the fortunes of this once modest
+and little-known household. Just before Christian came to the throne, his eldest
+daughter, Alexandra, a beautiful and an amiable girl, attracted the attention of
+the Prince of Wales. The prince became attached to her, and in due time married
+her.</p>
+
+<p>About the same time, Christian&rsquo;s second son, George, was chosen King of
+Greece, and was crowned at Athens, and is still reigning there.</p>
+
+<p>After three years had passed, the second daughter, Maria Dagmar, who, like
+her sister Alexandra, was a very lovely and attractive girl, was married to the
+Czarowitch Alexander of Russia, after having been betrothed to his elder brother
+Nicholas, who died. She is now Empress of Russia.</p>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="palace_of_fredericksborg" id="palace_of_fredericksborg"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl110.jpg" width="600" height="421" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">PALACE OF FREDERICKSBORG.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
+Somewhat later, the eldest son of the Danish king married the only daughter
+of Oscar II., King of Sweden and Norway, thus forming a new link of
+national friendship between the three Scandinavian nations.</p>
+
+<p>It is thus quite possible that in the not distant future no less than four of
+King Christian&rsquo;s children, who were brought up with little more expectation
+than that of living respectably and wedding into Danish noble families, will
+occupy thrones in Europe. It may happen that the two daughters will share
+two of the greatest of those thrones,&mdash;that one will be Queen of England; the
+other is Empress of Russia,&mdash;while the two sons will be respectively King of
+Denmark and King of Greece.</p>
+
+<p>This great good fortune, in a worldly point of view, which has come to the
+Danish royal family, cannot certainly be attributed solely, or even mainly, to
+luck or chance. It has been, after all, chiefly its virtues which have won it such
+a high position in Europe. The good breeding and excellent character of the
+king&rsquo;s children have won for them the prominence they now hold; for the daughters
+are as womanly and virtuous as they are physically attractive, and the sons
+are models of manly bearing and irreproachable habits.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE STORY OF A KING WHO WAS PUT INTO A BAG.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>&ldquo;His realm was once a cradle, and now it is a coffin,&rdquo; might be said of the
+most powerful monarch that ever lived. Kings are but human, and they are
+pitiable objects indeed when they fall from their high estate into the power of
+their enemies. Never did a king present a more humiliating spectacle in his
+fall than Valdemar II., called the Conqueror.</p>
+
+<p>Under the early reign of this king, the Golden Age seemed to have returned
+to Denmark. Never was a young monarch more prosperous or glorious in so
+narrow a kingdom.</p>
+
+<p>His empire grew. He annexed Pomerania. He wrested from the German
+Empire all the territories in their possession north of the Elbe and Elde, and he
+finally became the master of Northern Germany.</p>
+
+<p>He was a champion of the Church. A papal bull conceded to him the sovereignty
+of all the people he might convert, and he entered the field against the
+pagans of Esthonia, with an army of 60,000 men, and 1,400 ships! He baptized
+the conquered with kingly pomp and pride.</p>
+
+<p>His reign was now most splendid. Denmark was supreme in Scandinavia
+and Northern Germany. The Pope revered the Danish power, and the world
+feared it.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
+But secret foes are often more dangerous than open enemies. The conquered
+princes of Germany hated him, and planned his downfall.</p>
+
+<p>Among these was the Count-Duke of Schwerin. He pretended great respect
+and affection for Valdemar. He laid many snares for the king&rsquo;s ruin, but they
+failed. He was called &ldquo;Black Henry&rdquo; in his own country on account of his dark
+face and evil nature, and Valdemar had been warned against him as a false
+friend.</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_king_in_the_bag" id="the_king_in_the_bag"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl111.jpg" width="500" height="276" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE KING IN THE BAG.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>But he was warm, obsequious, and fascinating to the king, and the king
+liked him.</p>
+
+<p>In the spring of 1233 Valdemar invited him to hunt with him in the woods
+of Lyo.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Tell the king I am disabled and cannot leave my couch,&rdquo; said the artful
+count, who now thought of a way to accomplish his long-cherished purpose.</p>
+
+<p>He left his couch at once, and sent his spies to shadow the king.</p>
+
+<p>The king landed at Lyo with only a few attendants.</p>
+
+<p>One night the king was sleeping in the woods of Lyo in a rude, unguarded
+tent. His son was by his side.</p>
+
+<p>They were awaked from slumber by an assault from unknown foes, and a
+sense of suffocation.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
+What had happened? The king could not move his arms; his head seemed
+enveloped in cloth. He could not see; his voice was stifled. He <em>felt</em> himself
+carried away.</p>
+
+<p>Black Henry had entered the tent with his confidants, and had put the King
+of the North and his son into two bags, and tied them up, and was now hurrying
+away with them to the river.</p>
+
+<p>Black Henry laid his two captives in the bottom of a boat like two logs,
+and hoisted sail; and Valdemar, whose kingdom was now only a bag, was blown
+away towards the German coast.</p>
+
+<p>He was thrown into prison, and there lived in darkness and neglect. The
+Pope ordered his release, but it was not heeded. The Danes tried to rescue
+him, but were defeated.</p>
+
+<p>He was at last set free on the agreement that he should pay a large ransom.
+He returned to his kingdom, but found his territory reduced to its old narrow
+limits. His glory was gone. His empire had been the North; it had also been
+a bag; and at last it was a coffin. Poor old man! His last years were peaceful,
+and in them he served Denmark well.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>NORWAY.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">Stockholm.&mdash;Story of the Hero King.&mdash;Upsala.&mdash;Norway.&mdash;Christiania.&mdash;King
+Olaf.&mdash;Drontheim.&mdash;The Fisherman of Faroe.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapt"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>HE narrative of travel and history was continued by
+Mr. Beal.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;Strange is the evolution of cities.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are about to glance at Stockholm. Let
+us go back in imagination six hundred years.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;There are some rocky islands in the Baltic, at the foot of the
+northern peninsula. Sea birds wheel above them in the steel-gray
+air; they build their nests there. Storms sweep over these lonely
+islands; sunlight bursts upon them, and now and then a Viking&rsquo;s ship
+finds a haven among them, and scares away the birds.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Years pass. Fishermen build huts on the islands. Hunters
+come there. There come also the sea kings. A mixed, strange
+people.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;They build a village on the holms, or islets. They defend themselves
+with stockades, and they found on stocks, or beams, their strong
+houses. The growing town rises from stock holms; hence, Stockholm.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 391px;">
+<a name="gustavus_adolphus" id="gustavus_adolphus"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl112.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The years pass, and the sea birds fly away. There are wings of
+gables where once were wings of birds. Stockholm becomes a fortress,
+and, as in the case of St. Petersburg in recent times, the sea
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
+desolation pulses with life and energy, and is transformed into a city.
+Churches, palaces, gardens, arise. Battles are fought, and here tread
+the feet of kings.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The wonder grows. The birds scream far away now. The
+islands are spanned by bridges. Stockholm stands a splendid city,
+one of the crowns of earth.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The city lies before us. Noble structures, villas, steeples, are seen
+among the green trees. The ships of many flags lie together like a
+town in the sea.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is sunset. The tops of the linden-trees are crowned with sunlight,
+the Gothic windows burn. A shadow falls from the gray sky.
+Afar fly the white sea-gulls. The shadow deepens. It is night. We
+are in Stockholm.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Every nation has its hero.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You have been told how that poor Louis le Debonnaire, the son
+of Charlemagne, preferred to win crowns for Christ&rsquo;s kingdom rather
+than for his own. He lost his own kingdom; but the missionaries he
+sent forth, though at first not successful, were the means of giving
+Christianity to all the nations of the North.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE HERO KING OF SWEDEN.</h4>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<p>There was born in Stockholm, in 1594, an heir to the Swedish throne, whose
+influence was destined to be felt throughout the world and to very distant
+periods of time. The child was named Gustavus Adolphus.</p>
+
+<p>He was educated for the kingdom. At the age of ten he was made to
+attend the sittings of the Diet and the councils of state. In boyhood he was
+able to discuss state affairs in Latin, and in youth he was able to speak nearly
+all European tongues.</p>
+
+<p>He was schooled in the arts of war as well as peace. In early manhood he
+entered Russia at the head of an army, and compelled the Czar to sue for
+peace.</p>
+
+<p>After the war the young king gave his whole heart to the development of
+the industries and institutions of his kingdom. He founded schools, assisted
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
+churches, and everywhere multiplied influences for good. Never did a monarch
+devote himself more earnestly to the improvement of his people, or accomplish
+more in a short time. His influence for good has ever lived in Sweden, and is
+felt strongly to-day.</p>
+
+<p>He was an ardent Protestant. The Catholic powers of the South and the
+Protestant powers of the North had become very hostile, and war between them
+seemed impending. In this crisis the Protestant leaders looked to Gustavus
+Adolphus as the champion of their cause.</p>
+
+<p>In 1630 Gustavus called a Diet in Stockholm, and reported the danger that
+was threatening the Protestant states of Germany, and which would involve
+Sweden unless checked. He announced that he had decided to espouse the
+cause of the German princes, and to enter the field. He took his little daughter
+in his arms, and commended her to the Diet as the heir to the crown.</p>
+
+<p>He landed in Germany on Midsummer&rsquo;s day in 1630. He had an army of
+fifteen thousand men. It was a small army indeed for so perilous an undertaking.
+&ldquo;<i>Cum Deo et victricibus armis</i> is my motto,&rdquo; he declared, and trusting in
+this watchword he advanced on his dangerous course.</p>
+
+<p>The Imperialists, as the foes of the Reformed Faith were called, were led by
+Wallenstein. They were greatly superior in numbers to the Swedes and their
+allies.</p>
+
+<p>At Lutzen the great battle of Protestantism was fought, Nov. 6, 1632.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I truly believe that the Lord has given my enemies into my hands,&rdquo; said
+Gustavus, just before the battle.</p>
+
+<p>The morning dawned gray and gloomy. A heavy mist hung over the two
+armies.</p>
+
+<p>The Swedish and German army united in singing Luther&rsquo;s hymn,&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Ein&rsquo; feste Burg ist unser Gott.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then Gustavus said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Let us sing &lsquo;Christ our Salvation.&rsquo;&rdquo;</p>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 473px;">
+<a name="death_of_gustavus_and_his_page" id="death_of_gustavus_and_his_page"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl113.jpg" width="473" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">DEATH OF GUSTAVUS AND HIS PAGE.</p>
+
+<div class="smlfont">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Be not dismayed, thou little flock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although the foe&rsquo;s fierce battle-shock,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Loud on all sides, assail thee.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though o&rsquo;er thy fall they laugh secure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their triumph cannot long endure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Let not thy courage fail thee.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Thy cause is God&rsquo;s,&mdash;go at his call,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his hand commit thy all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fear thou no ill impending:<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">His Gideon shall arise for thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God&rsquo;s Word and people manfully,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In God&rsquo;s own time, defending.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Our hope is sure in Jesus&rsquo; might;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against themselves the godless fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Themselves, not us, distressing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shame and contempt their lot shall be;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God is with us, with him are we:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To us belongs his blessing.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Clad in his overcoat without armor, he mounted his horse and rode along the
+lines.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The enemy is within your reach,&rdquo; he said to the allies.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Swedes,&rdquo; he said to his old army, &ldquo;if you fight as I expect of you, you
+shall have your reward; if not, not a bone of your bodies will ever return to
+Sweden.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>To the Germans he said,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;If you fail me to-day, your religion, your freedom, and your welfare in this
+world and in the next are lost.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He prophesied to the Germans,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Trust in God; believe that with his help you may this day gain a victory
+which shall profit your latest descendants.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>He waved his drawn sword over his head and advanced.</p>
+
+<p>The Swedes and Finns responded with cheers and the clash of arms.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Jesus, Jesus, let us fight this day for thy name,&rdquo; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>The whole army was now in motion, the king leading amid the darkness and
+gloom of the mist.</p>
+
+<p>The battle opened with an immediate success for the Swedes. But in the
+moment of victory the king was wounded and fell from his horse.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The king is killed!&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The report was like a death-knell to the Swedes, but only for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>The king&rsquo;s horse with an empty saddle was seen galloping wildly down the
+road.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Lead us again to the attack,&rdquo; the leaders demanded of George of Saxe-Weimar.</p>
+
+<p>The spirit of the dead king seemed to infuse the little army with more than
+human valor. The men fought as though they were resolved to give their lives
+to their cause. The memory of the king&rsquo;s words in the morning thrilled them.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
+Nothing could stand before such heroism. Pappenheim fell. The Imperialists
+were routed. The Swedes at night, victorious, possessed the field, but they had
+lost the bravest of kings, and one of the most unselfish of rulers.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;We left Stockholm for Upsala, the student city. The paddles of
+the boat brushed along the waters of the M&auml;lar; the old city retreated
+from view, and landscape after landscape of variegated beauty rose
+before us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The M&auml;lar Lake is margined with dark pines, bright meadows
+and fields, light green linden-trees, gray rocks, and shadowy woods.
+Here and there are red houses among the lindens.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We pass flat-bottomed boats, that dance about in the current
+made by the steamer.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The hills of Upsala come into view. The University next
+appears, like a palace; then a palace indeed, red like the houses;
+then the gabled town.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We went to the church, and were conducted into a vaulted chamber
+where were crowns and sceptres taken from the coffins of dead
+kings. We wandered along the aisle after leaving the treasure-room
+of the dead, and gazed on cold tombs and dusty frescos.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Here sleeps Gustavus Vasa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In the centre aisle, under a flat stone, lies the great botanist,
+Linn&aelig;us.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We visited the garden of Linn&aelig;us, or the place where it once
+bore the blossoms and fruits of the world. Nettles were there; the
+orangeries were gone; the winter garden had disappeared. The
+place wore a desolate look; the master had departed, leaving little
+there but the ghost of a great memory.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We left Stockholm for Norway.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 445px;">
+<a name="cascade_in_norway" id="cascade_in_norway"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl114.jpg" width="445" height="600" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">CASCADE IN NORWAY.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We were landed from the steamer at Christiansand. This sea-port
+is a rude town, and except from the wild, strange expression of
+both land and sea, which affects one gloomily, yet with a kind of poetic
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
+sadness, revealed little to interest us or to remember. There was a
+Lazaretto, or pest-house, on a high rock, from which we felt sure that
+no disease would ever be communicated.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="lazaretto" id="lazaretto"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl115.jpg" width="500" height="367"
+alt="View across the water to the Lazaretto" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LAZARETTO.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The scenery of Norway is unlike any other in the world. Take
+the map and scan the western coast. It looks like a piece of lace-work,
+so numerous are the inlets or fiords.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;These fiords are many of them surrounded by headlands as high
+as mountain walls. They are little havens, with calm water of wondrous
+beauty and with walls that seem to reach to the sky. On a
+level spot in the mountainous formation, a hamlet or a little church is
+sometimes seen, one of the most picturesque objects with its setting
+in the world.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span>
+[The artist can give one a better view of these fiords than any
+description, and he has faithfully done it here.]</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 500px;">
+<a name="the_naero_fiord" id="the_naero_fiord"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl116.jpg" width="500" height="473" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE NAERO FIORD.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The mountains and valleys of Norway are unlike any other.
+Summer finds them as winter leaves them. Great hills are worn into
+cones by the snow and ice. The cataracts are numerous and wonderful.
+The water scenery has no equal for romantic beauty and
+wildness.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;A twelve hours&rsquo; farther sail brought us to Christiania. It is
+situated in a lovely valley on the northern side of Christiania Fiord.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span>
+It has a population of about eighty thousand. Here are the Royal
+Palace and University.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;All of the cities of the North have great schools and libraries.
+The University at Christiania has nearly a thousand students, and a
+library of one hundred and fifty thousand books.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The port is covered with ice during some four months in the
+year. During the mild seasons some two thousand vessels yearly
+enter the harbor.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Olaf, the Saint, the King of &lsquo;Norroway,&rsquo; who preached the Gospel
+&lsquo;with his sword,&rsquo; is the hero of the western coast. I might relate
+many wonderful stories of him, but I would advise you to read &lsquo;The
+Saga of King Olaf,&rsquo; by Longfellow, in the &lsquo;Wayside Inn.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;His capital was Drontheim, far up among the northern regions,
+where the sun shines all night in summer, and where the winters are
+wild and dreary, cold and long. It is a quaint old town. Summer
+tourists to the western coast of Norway sometimes visit it. Its cathedral
+was founded by Olaf, and is nearly a thousand years old.</p>
+
+
+<p class="hrpadt">&ldquo;And now in ten nights&rsquo; entertainments, you have taken hasty
+views of Germany and the old Kingdom of Charlemagne. Narratives
+of travel and history have been mingled with strange traditions and
+tales of superstition; all have combined to give pictures of the ages
+that are faded and gone, and that civilization can never wish to recall.
+Men are reaching higher levels in religion, knowledge, science, and
+the arts. Kingcraft is giving way to the governing intelligence of
+the people, and superstition to the simple doctrines of the Sermon
+on the Mount and to the experiences of a spiritual life. The age of
+castles and fortresses, like churches, is gone. The age of peace and
+good-will comes with the fuller light of the Gospel and intelligence.
+The pomps of cathedrals will never be renewed. The Church is coming
+to teach that character is everything, and that the soul is the
+temple of God&rsquo;s spiritual indwelling.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
+The tenth evening was closed by Charlie Leland. He read an
+original poem, suggested by an incident related to him by a fisherman
+at Stockholm.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="lake_in_norway" id="lake_in_norway"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl117.jpg" width="600" height="397" alt="" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">LAKE IN NORWAY.</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When life was young, my white sail hung<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">O&rsquo;er ocean&rsquo;s crystal floor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the fiords alee was the dreaming sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the deep sea waves before.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Faroe fishermen used to call<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">From the pier&rsquo;s extremest post:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Strike out, my boy, from the ocean wall;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beware of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Beware of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O pilot! pilot! every rock<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">You know in the ocean wall.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;No, no, my boy, I only know<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where there are no rocks at all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where there are no rocks at all, my boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And there no ship is lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strike out, strike out for the open sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beware, I say, of the dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Beware of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Low sunk the trees in the sun-laved seas,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And the flash of peaking oars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grew faint and dim on the sheeny rim<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the harbor-dented shores.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">And far Faroe in the light lay low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where rode like a dauntless host<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The white-plumed waves o&rsquo;er the green sea graves<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Of the rock-imperilled coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I thought of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And I thought of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blew free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And I steered for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I steered for the open sea.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To far Faroe I sailed away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">When bright the summer burned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I told in the old Norse kirk one day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The lesson my heart had learned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then the grizzly landvogt said to me:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;Of strength we may not boast;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ever in life for you and me<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then think of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And think of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;O landvogt, well thou knowest the ways<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Wherein my feet may fall.&rdquo;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;Oh, no, my boy, I only know<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The ways that are safe to all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ways that are safe to all, my boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And there no soul is lost.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strike out in life for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then think of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">And think of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">&ldquo;False lights, false lights, are near the land,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The reef the land wave hides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the ship goes down in sight of the town<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">That safe the deep sea rides.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">&rsquo;Tis those who steer the old life near<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Temptation suffer most;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The way is plain to life&rsquo;s open main,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beware of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Beware of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And so on life&rsquo;s sea I sailed away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where free the waters flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As I sailed from the old home port that day<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">For the islands of far Faroe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when I steer temptation near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The pilot, like a ghost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On the wave-rocked pier I seem to hear:<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">&ldquo;There&rsquo;s danger near the coast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beware of the drifting dunes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In the nights of the watery moons,<br /></span>
+<span class="i3">Beware of the Maelstrom&rsquo;s tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When the western wind blows free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the rocks of the Skagerrack,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the shoals of the Cattegat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Strike out for the open sea!&rdquo;<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="the_coast" id="the_coast"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl118.jpg" width="600" height="334"
+alt="Tumbled rocks leading down to the tree-edged water" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">THE COAST.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GREATER RHINE.</h3>
+
+<p class="chapsub">The Return Homeward.&mdash;On the Terrace,&mdash;Quebec.</p>
+
+
+<p><span class="dcapt"><span class="dropcap">T</span></span>HE Class made their return voyage by the way of
+Liverpool to Quebec, one of the shortest of the
+ocean ferries, and one of the most delightful in midsummer
+and early autumn, when the Atlantic is
+usually calm, and the icebergs have melted away.</p>
+
+<p>As the steamer was passing down the Mersey,
+and Liverpool with her thousands of ships, and Birkenhead with its
+airy cottages, were disappearing from view, Mr. Beal remarked to the
+boys,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We shall return through the Straits, and so shall be probably
+only four and a half days out of sight of land.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I did not suppose it was possible to cross the Atlantic from land
+to land in four days and a half,&rdquo; said Charlie Leland.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We shall stop to-morrow at Moville, the port of Londonderry,&rdquo;
+said Mr. Beal. &ldquo;A few hours after we leave we shall sink the Irish
+coast. Make notes of the time you lose sight of the light-houses of
+Ireland, and of the time when you first see Labrador, and compare
+the dates towards the end of the voyage,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal.</p>
+
+<p>Past the green hills of Ireland the steamer glided along, among
+ships so numerous that the sea seemed a moving city, or the suburbs
+of a moving city; for Liverpool itself, with her seven miles of wonderful
+docks, is a city of the sea.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span>
+The Giant&rsquo;s Causeway, the sunny port of Moville, the rocky
+islands with their white light-houses, were passed, and at one o&rsquo;clock
+on Monday morning the last light dropped into the calm sea, fading
+like a star.</p>
+
+<p>The Atlantic was perfectly calm&mdash;as &ldquo;calm as a mill-pond&rdquo; as the
+expression is, during the tranquillity of the ocean that follows the settled
+summer weather. The steamer was heavily loaded, and had little
+apparent motion; bright days and bright nights succeeded each other.
+A flock of gulls followed the steamer far out to sea. For three days
+no object of interest was seen on the level ocean except the occasional
+spouting of a whale.</p>
+
+<p>The sky was a glory in the long twilights. The sun when half set
+made the distant ocean seem like an island of fire, and the light clouds
+after sunset like hazes drifting away from a Paradisic sphere.</p>
+
+<p>On Thursday morning the shadowy coast of Labrador appeared.
+The voyage seemed now virtually ended after four days from land to
+land. There were three days more, but the steamer would be in calm
+water, with land constantly in view.</p>
+
+<p>The Straits of Belle Isle, some six miles wide, were as calm as had
+been the ocean. The Gulf of St. Lawrence&mdash;the fishing field of the
+world&mdash;was like a surface of glass. The sunrise and moonrise were
+now magnificent; the sunsets brought scenes to view as wonderful as
+the skies of Italy; gigantic mountains rose; clustering sails broke the
+monotonous expanse of the glassy sea, and now and then appeared
+an Indian canoe such as Jacques Cartier and the early explorers saw
+nearly three centuries ago.</p>
+
+<p>The wild shores of Anticosti rose and sunk.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;We are now in the Greater Rhine,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal to the boys,&mdash;&ldquo;the
+Rhine of the West.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;How is that?&rdquo; asked Charlie Leland. &ldquo;Is not the Hudson the
+American Rhine?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 449px;">
+<a name="niagara_falls" id="niagara_falls"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl119.jpg" width="449" height="600"
+alt="A man peers over the top edge of one of the waterfalls; a woman and dog are nearby" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">NIAGARA FALLS.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It is the New York Rhine,&rdquo; said Mr. Beal, smiling. &ldquo;The river
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311"><!-- illustration --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"><!-- blank page --></a></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>
+St. Lawrence is, by right of analogy, the American Rhine, and so deserves
+to be called.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Which is the larger river?&rdquo; asked Charlie.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The larger?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Yes, the longer?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;It does not seem possible that an American schoolboy could
+seriously ask such a question! I am sometimes astonished, however,
+at the ignorance that older people of intelligence show in regard to
+our river of which all Americans should be proud.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Ours is the Greater Rhine. The German Rhine is less than a
+thousand miles long; our Rhine is nearly twenty-five hundred miles
+long: the German Rhine can at almost any point be easily spanned
+with bridges; our Rhine defies bridges, except in its narrowest boundaries.
+The great inland seas of Superior, Huron, Michigan, Ontario,
+and Erie require a width of miles for their pathway to the ocean.
+The Rhine falls cannot be compared with Niagara, nor the scattered
+islands of the old river with the Lake of a Thousand Islands of the
+new. Quebec is as beautiful as Coblentz, and Montreal is in its situation
+one of the loveliest cities of the world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The tributaries of the old Rhine are small; those of the new are
+almost as large as the old Rhine itself,&mdash;the gloomy Saguenay, and
+the sparkling Ottawa.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;Think of its lakes! Lake Ladoga, the largest lake in Europe,
+contains only 6,330 square miles. Lake Superior has 32,000 square
+miles, and Michigan 22,000 square miles.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;You will soon have a view of the mountain scenery of the lower
+St. Lawrence. The pine-covered walls along which trail the clouds
+of the sky are almost continuous to Montreal.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;But why,&rdquo; asked Charlie Leland, &ldquo;is the German Rhine so
+famous, and ours so little celebrated?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The German Rhine gathers around it the history of two thousand
+years; ours, two hundred years. What will our Rhine be two
+thousand years from to-day?&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span>
+He added:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;I look upon New England as one of the best products of civilization
+thus far. But there is rising a new New England in the West,
+a vast empire in the States of the Northwest and in Canada, to which
+New England is as a province,&mdash;an empire that in one hundred years
+will lead the thought, the invention, and the statesmanship of the
+world. Every prairie schooner that goes that way is like a sail of
+the &lsquo;Mayflower.&rsquo;</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;In yonder steerage are a thousand emigrants. The easy-going,
+purse-proud cabin passengers do not know it; they do not visit them
+or give much thought to them: but there are the men and women
+whose children will one day sway the empire that will wear the crown
+of the world.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;The castles are fading from view on the hills of the old Rhine;
+towns and cities are leaping into life on the new. The procession of
+cities, like a triumphal march, will go on, on, on. The Canadian Empire
+will probably one day lock hands with the imperial States of the
+Northwest; Mexico, perhaps, will join the Confederacy, and Western
+America will doubtless vie with Eastern Russia in power, in progress,
+and in the glories of the achievements of the arts and sciences. Our
+Rhine has the future: let the old Rhine have the past.&rdquo;</p>
+
+<p>The Class approached Quebec at night. The scene was beautiful:
+like a city glimmering against the sky, the lights of the lower town,
+of the upper town, and of the Castle standing on the heights, shone
+brightly against the hills; and the firing of guns and the striking of
+bells were echoed from the opposite hills of the calm and majestic
+river.</p>
+
+<p>The Class spent a day at Quebec, chiefly on the Terrace,&mdash;one of
+the most beautiful promenades in the world. From the Terrace the
+boys saw the making up of the emigrant trains on the opposite side
+of the river, where the steamer had landed, and saw them disappear
+along the winding river, going to the great province of Ontario, the
+lone woods of Muskoka, and the far shores of the Georgian Bay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="a_new_england_in_the_west" id="a_new_england_in_the_west"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl120.jpg" width="600" height="435"
+alt="A rural landscape, with a few houses and farms scattered around" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">A NEW ENGLAND IN THE WEST.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadtop" style="width: 600px;">
+<a name="near_quebec" id="near_quebec"></a>
+<img src="images/zjnl121.jpg" width="600" height="388"
+alt="A cluster of small houses with a church in the background" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="caption">NEAR QUEBEC.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318"><!-- blank page --></a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span>
+&ldquo;I wish we might make a Zigzag journey on the St. Lawrence,&rdquo;
+said Charlie Leland.</p>
+
+<p>&ldquo;And collect the old legends, stories, and histories of the Indian
+tribes, and the early explorers and French settlers,&rdquo; added Mr. Beal.
+&ldquo;Perhaps some day we may be able to do so. I am in haste to return
+to the States, but I regret to leave a place so perfectly beautiful as the
+Terrace of Quebec. It is delightful to sit here and see the steamers
+go and come; to watch the bright, happy faces pass, and to recall the
+fact that the river below is doubtless to be the water-path of the nations
+that will most greatly influence future times. But our journey
+is ended: let us go.&rdquo;</p>
+
+
+<h4 class="smlpadt">ON THE TERRACE,&mdash;QUEBEC.</h4>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Alone, beside these peaceful guns<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I walk,&mdash;the eve is calm and fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Below, the broad St. Lawrence runs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Above, the castle shines in air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And o&rsquo;er the breathless sea and land<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Night stretches forth her jewelled hand.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Amid the crowds that hurry past&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Bright faces like a sunlit tide&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some eyes the gifts of friendship cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Upon me, as I walk aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kind, wordless welcomes understood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Spirit&rsquo;s touch of brotherhood.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Below, the sea; above, the sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Smile each to each, a vision fair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So like Faith&rsquo;s zones of light on high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A sphere seraphic seems the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loving thoughts there seem to meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And come and go with golden feet.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Below me lies the old French town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">With narrow rues and churches quaint,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And til&egrave;d roofs and gables brown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And signs with names of many a saint.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there in all I see appears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heart of twice an hundred years.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond, by inky steamers mailed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Point Levi&rsquo;s painted roofs arise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where emigration long has hailed<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The empires of the western skies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lightly wave the red flags there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like roses of the damask air.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Peace o&rsquo;er yon garden spreads her palm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">Where heroes fought in other days;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Honor speaks of brave Montcalm<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">On Wolfe&rsquo;s immortal shaft of praise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What lessons that I used to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In schoolboy days to me return!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Fair terrace of the Western Rhine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">I leave thee with unwilling feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I long shall see thy castle shine<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">As bright as now, in memories sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cheerful thank the kindly eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lent to me their sympathies.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Go, friendly hearts, that met by chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">A stranger for a little while;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Friendship itself is but a glance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">And love is but a passing smile.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I am a pilgrim,&mdash;all I meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are glancing eyes and hurrying feet.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Farewell; in dreams I see again<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The northern river of the vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While crowns the sun with golden grain<br /></span>
+<span class="i1">The hillsides of the greater Rhine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here shall grow as years increase<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The empires of the Rhine of Peace.<br /></span>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+
+<p class="center padtop smlfont">University Press: John Wilson &amp; Son, Cambridge.</p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter ipadboth" style="width: 438px;">
+<img src="images/zjnl122.jpg" width="438" height="600"
+alt="Back cover, showing a waterfall; a house; a small boat at sea; decorative initials" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<div class="bbox">
+<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p>
+
+<p>This book contains some archaic spelling, which has been preserved as printed. Minor
+punctuation errors have been repaired.</p>
+
+<p>There is some variable spelling, particularly of place names; this has
+been repaired where there was an obvious prevalence of one form over
+the other, but is otherwise left as printed.</p>
+
+<p>There are two references on page <a href="#Page_57">57</a> to "Crofe Castle" in Dorsetshire, which appear to
+be an author error for "Corfe Castle". These have been preserved as printed.</p>
+
+<p>Character dialogue sometimes transitions into tales, which do not use continuing quote
+marks. As a result, some closing quotes are omitted, and this has been preserved as
+printed.</p>
+
+<p>The frontispiece illustration and advertising material have been moved
+to follow the title page. Other illustrations have been moved where
+necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. Omitted page
+numbers were either full page illustrations or blank pages in the original.</p>
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of ZigZag Journeys in Northern Lands;, by 
+Hezekiah Butterworth
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:44:04 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:44:04 -0700
commit	352869095e6c372674d61b832c31afc4eaa94b1c (patch)
tree	f6f2cc6879e6dd25caa32fe514670dd048758b5a /28915-h