parlour of the Montgomery Inn, had again the pleasure of seeing its guests. drenched and dripping by a sudden shower which ensued when least desired or expected.

Mr. Isaac Donne, reminded us of the plan of tale-relating, proposed by Mr. M'Farland; and observed that as myself and he were Americans, we must, being in our own country, give up our claims to an immediate hearing; and leave Mynheer and St. Foix, to settle precedence between them.

Upon this hint, the two gentlemen were on their feet in an instant, each begging the other to commence in so vehement a manner, that a greater confusion ensued than Mr. D. had expected, or any of us desired. Monsieur stuck to it (to adopt the expressive phrase of an old school-master of mine,) that the record of his sufferings which he had prepared, could by no means equal any thing that his very good friend Mister Hiram Heltzenspacker could relate; and Mynheer to be equal in politeness to his antagonist uttered so many modest protestations and complimentary phrases, that if sufficient encouragement is offered by a tasteful public, they shall appear shortly in a small pocket volume, which may be bound to match Chesterfield, to whose letters it will make an excellent appendix. At length, however, after a profusion of bows on the part of St. Foix, at every one of which his queue smote his head and back, as he rose and sunk, it was resolved that Mr. Hiram was the fittest person to succeed Mr. M⚫Farland.

"I have, my very good friends (said he) some singular papers written seven years ago, by a fellow student of mine, who left them to me when dying, from the presence of a brace of bullets in his stomach honorably residing there. I will by your leave read you one of these, which, though in an imperfect state at present, though by the bye, I imagine I have the remainder somewhere in my port-folio-yet it is the only one I have yet found time to read, and it is probably a good specimen of the remains of one who bade fair to follow the footsteps up the hill of Parnassus, of those great authors both dramatic and metaphysical, who have rendered Germany the greatest nation in the world, as regards literature.

"Ah! (whispered Monsieur) unfortunate, traduced Racine!" "You will concur with me, (continued Hiram) all of you, I trust, when I shall have gratified your ears with this precious fragment, that the immortal Schiller and his everlasting robbers excepted, this youth may be considered as having composed the most horribly exquisite, mystical and sublime tale, which ever existed; and let me tell you that the great Black guard, or Blackwood, or Blacklock, or whatever his name is, who publishes the ministerial Magazine in Edinburgh," ("Hem!" said Mr. M'Farland.) "did full justice to its merit; but told me that having taken two uncommon sailors into VOL. I.-No. VI.

63

his employment as writers in this department, he could not insert it for several months. I wished for the fame of my author to have it therein inserted, but I left Great Britain before the time specified, and could not think of leaving so valuable a manuscript behind me."

"Gude love you, mon, (said Sandy) an ye be goin' on in this style, it will, faith, be to morrow mornin' ere we do justice to the story."

Mynheer gave a violent puff, and letting a "Der Teufel." escape between his pipe and lips, he began without farther preface.

THE GERMAN'S STORY,

OR

THE TALE OF HIRAM HELTZENSPACKER.

THE evening had already commenced, and the more repu table citizens of Leipsic were seeking their homes, when the student Weiner Von Kesselman, entering with a sigh the door of his gloomy lodgings, betook himself to his chamber and his midnight oil. In truth the reflections and feelings with which he was then agitated, were far from being pleasurable. He bad but two days before, heard of the sudden illness of his father, an indigent merchant in Rotterdam; and he had been for some time much dissatisfied with his present course of life at Leipsic, and his future prospects of practicing law successfully. He felt at that moment, all the anguish which the illness of a beloved parent and hope deceived can produce. He was a third son, and his father had a family of five children besides himself, and was in needy circumstances. He had therefore nothing to depend on but his own exertions in a profession which was daily becoming more irksome to him. Being too indigent' to go through all the ceremonies, honorariums and fees, which entitle a student of law to a residence in either of the colleges devoted to that branch of learning, he was obliged to procure lodgings in one of the small boarding houses, which spring up from the occurrence of the celebrated fairs, and the concourse of youths brought from all parts of Germany to these universities. His present lodging was to Von Kesselman a cause of much uneasiness. It was situated in one of the most obscure lanes in the suburbs; and from several circumstances in the behaviour of the family of his landlord, he felt nearly confident that they were, if not actually robbers and assassins, at least their abettors and assistants. Frequently were his slumbers broken by the most horrible yells and groaning. When he asked an explanation of these nightly disturbances:

"They are the ravings of the lunatic beneath your room,” would the host mutter with a blood-chilling grin. These looks, and the signals made when he was present, caused great alarm in the mind of Kesselman, and he anxiously endeavoured to learn who and what his fellow lodgers were. His landlord who inhabited the ground floor, and part of the attic, possessed no apparent manner of obtaining a livelihood beyond the scanty pittance derived from a few boarders, apparently as needy as himself. True it was, that a few old trinkets and watches glittered in the window fronting the street; but the equivocal and suspicious way in which G attained them, procured him but few purchasers; and he thought himself fortunate if one or two were occasionally purchased by some stranger ignorant of the character he bore in the neighbourhood. An old gentleman who always joined in Kesselman's complaints concerning the nocturnal noises, inhabited the second story: some said he was a spy from France; but if so, he was but a poor one, as he seldom quitted his apartment: others that he was a relation of the emperor of Germany;-in short the man in the iron mask, did not occasion greater wonder and curiosity in his day, than this ancient incognito did in the dirty alley into which his favourite window looked. A venerable dame, whose cheeks had been plastered for sixty summers by a compost of rouge, but without effect, held her quarters in the back room of the third story, and in the adjoining apartment. lodged the lady who was reported to be insane. Kesselman's companion on the fourth floor, was a secretåry to a German Baron, then in Paris.

When the student had deposited his hat and books in his apartment, he procured a light and sat down to prosecute his metaphysical inquiries. The evening gradually wore away; but still the book on which his eyes were fixed lay before him. At length he concluded his chapter and exchanged it for the celebrated robbers of Schiller. "Immortal author (cried the enthusiastic youth) it is thou, who hast removed the stigma of dullness, from thy country. Thou hast wiped this stain from her fair title. Immortal author, great genius!"-He continued to peruse the cloquent pages. In a short time the doors of the lodgers' rooms were closed for the night; he heard them shut, he heard their bolts shot, he heard their keys turned: time rolled on: he was still seated at his table. Madame L., the lunatic's door was even closed, although her Physican visited her every evening, it was now thought too late for his arrival, and her attendants retired to rest.

He heard the poor poet whose meditations were carried on over his head, lie down on his straw; but all his mind was bestowed upon the drama before him. He had no feeling, no care to give to any thing but this wonderful poem. At length he came to the passage in which Count de Moor's death scene is related

and the recollection of his own father, perhaps then expiring without the presence of his favourite son, flashed across his mind. The thought was insupportable; he shut the book and burst into tears. The light was nearly out, it had reached the socket unnoticed by him. He looked out of the casement; the lights in the neighbouring houses were all extinguished, and behind the chimnies of the most distant streets the moon was slowly rising. The sight of her brought back the recollection of his childhood and his youth. She had shone thus upon him, when he sat on his mother's grave, waiting for her to rise and walk with him as she used to do when the evenings were fine and the moon shone brightly. She had shone thus when his Julia's hand pressed his in her garden, when he was but fourteen, and when she was clothed in mourning for her father; and now it shone upon him, poor, indigent, in trouble, and expecting that the tidings of his father's death would reach him perchance in an hour, or perchance at day break-or perchance he might not die. But he restrained the hope of its being so, lest his grief and sorrow should be needlessly increased when the truth arrived. The moon had risen over the distant spires, and shone uncontrouled over all the city, and not a cloud obstructed a single ray. Von Kesselman threw himself on his couch, but he slept not. The tears prevented sleep, and he gave full vent to his feelings; he became peevish and threw up his window. The moon was still shining in the heavens; the clock struck twelve and he hastily undressed, wondering that the time should have flown away so rappidly. In a few moments he was asleep. He dreamt. In his visions, the moon was again seen shining; again he sat on his mother's tomb, and again he was in the garden with his Julia. He dreamt again, and confused visions of his father and his relatives weeping over his death bed appeared. Then his brothers were seen gnashing their teeth over the will in which he was left heir to the family estate. Then they seemed to plot his murder; and a bravo come upon him with a poniard, and he distinctly felt it enter his arm, which he held out to prevent its reaching his heart. He awoke, it was but too real; his blood was flowing over the couch, and a gloomy looking man in black garments appeared brandishing a small weapon. Behind him stood another person who rushed forward and caught the blood in a goblet. The recollection of the tales which represent enemies as drinking the blood of their victims, convinced him of his situation. He gave a piercing yell, and the second being dropped the vase. He cried out again, and the wall gave back the echo; but not a door opened. He was convinced that all supposed it the roaring of the lunatic. He swooned for loss of blood. The second being hastened to sprinkle his cold face with water. He

recovered and exclaimed. "What, must I escape death to be exposed again to the torments of my enemies?" The man in black observed to the attendant who had held the bloody vase; "Poor creature! thus do many mighty minds wander!-hiccup!"

66

"I pray you spare me; (cried Kesselman) I have no wealth to entice you to so vile a deed! Why will you attempt to destroy

me?"

"It is thus, miserable creature, that you condemn your greatest benefactors!-hiccup!"

"Do not, do not I pray you," (sighed the student) "add insult to crime! and yet should I not call him my greatest benefactor who puts an end to my sufferings!"

The man in black pulled out a small case and replaced the weapon; the eyes of Kesselman glanced involuntarily upon it; it contained a number of similar weapons; they were different from any that he had ever seen, nor could he resolve them even to a species of dagger. The mysterious couple opened the door, and the man in black cried out, "I will call again-hiccup !-upon you to morrow evening!" He shut the door, and Von Kesselman was left to his own meditations.

"Skilful cruelty! (cried he looking upon his wound and perceiving that it was bandaged) You, mysterious enemy, have stabbed me so slightly that you may be able to kill me by degrees, and drag me slowly to the tomb." He now endeavoured to rise, to give the alarm to the family, but his weakness prevented him; and he closed his eyes, and attempted to sleep, but this singular adventure drove rest from his pillow, and the more he reflected upon so strange a scene, the less could he think of any one whom he could have provoked so greatly as to prompt him to murder. He had lain reflecting and pondering for a long time, when his attention was called by a noise from below-stairs; it grew louder and louder; steps were plainly heard on the stairs; they approached nearer, and the stamping of a military body was plainly distinguished. At length he heard an officer giving orders to a body of the patrol. They opened his door. Seize him, (cried the officer) and if he offers resistance, fulfil your orders." The four men who composed his party, instantly seized the student, who eagerly demanded upon what authority they arrested him. The officer smiled, and replied that he should know all when he arrived at the police office, whither he was to be carried as a spy! Kesselman protested his innocence; but the officer ordered him to keep silence and follow the men. was too weak to obey even if he had so desired; the guard accordingly took him on their shoulders, and slowly descended the stairs. Kesselman again protested his innocence, and his land

He