"Emmerenz went back into the sitting room, dipped her finger in the holy water at the door, and crossed herself; she then set out upon her journey. Christina followed her to the door, and again tried to dissuade her from going, but with a hasty God bless you!' Emmerenz tripped off. Christina's eyes followed her, as she crossed the garden to the fields, and her blessing accompanied the maiden.

"Emmerenz chose this path, in order to avoid meeting any of the villagers. As she passed through the Home-close, the moon was hidden behind a large cloud, and on entering the dark forest. to go down to the Neckar, she shuddered a little: all was silent and pitch-dark: she looked round, fancying that she heard footsteps behind her, but it was only the noise of her own steps; and laughing at her fears, she skipped boldly over the roots which lay twisted across the narrow path. Emmerenz had been well-instructed, and she no longer believed in ghosts and spirits; nevertheless she had still firm faith in the Mockle-Peter; how indeed could she help it, when so many people had actually felt him squatting upon their backs? and every now and then she lifted up her shoulder, to assure herself that the elf was not perched on it. She believed too in the little Nix, which rolls before the traveller's feet in the shape of a wild cat or a log of wood; so that when he goes to sit down upon it, he sinks into the wet mud. Emmerenz held the rosary firmly twisted round her hand.

"On reaching the open glade in the wood, where the noble beech-tree stands, with an image of the Virgin fixed to its smooth trunk, Emmerenz knelt down, took the rosary in her clasped hands, and prayed fervently. The moon shone forth from the clouds, full and clear, and the maiden rose strengthened in heart, and pursued her journey. Her path now followed the course of the Neckar on both sides dark pine-forests stretched up to the very summit of the hills: the valley was for some distance so narrow, that there was only space for a strip of meadow, the river and the road. All lay in silent repose; only at times a bird chirped, roused from its sleep, as if to say, Ah, how comfortable it is here in the nest!' the dogs barked, when Emmerenz passed the lonely farm-yards, the water-mills clappered busily, and the maiden's heart beat quick.

"Emmerenz had never been more than two hours' walk from home, and many thoughts now came into her mind: she contrasted the scene around with her own village, and involuntarily exclaimed, How different! that lies on the hill-side, and has fields as fat as bacon.' She only wished that the Necker could be carried over the hill, that there might not be such a want of water.

"The stars glittered brightly, and looking up, Emmerenz said to herself, How wonderful it is to see so many millions of stars sparkling above there, like so many little lights in a large sooty frying-pan, only far, far more beautiful and holy! And to think

that God sits up above there, and keeps watch over all the world! How many beautiful things one loses in the year by sleeping! and if a man does not look sharply about him, he sees little even when his eyes are open. Yes, he was right, I observe things much better now, and there is a great pleasure in it.' At this instant a fallingstar caught her eye; Emmerenz raised her hands and exclaimed, 'Ivo! She stood still, and looked abashed upon the ground; she had betrayed the deepest wish of her heart; for, as is well known, whatever any one wishes at the moment a star falls is sure to come to pass.

Emmerenz hastened on her way, and as she passed a little water-mill she thought, 'Ah now, if I had but such a mill as that yonder, I'd work like a horse. What a fine thing it must be to look at such a pretty little property and be able to call it mine! Well-a-day! I should like to know whom he would marry, if he were not to be a priest. Heaven is my witness, I would run for him just as readily if he took another quite as readily? no, perhaps not quite, but yet with heart and good-will. He is perfectly right to wish not to be a priest. Oh, what a misery it must be to have nobody in the world to love, and to belong to nobody! If God had willed that a man should not marry, He would have made only men, and have let people grow on the trees: but these are wicked thoughts,' she added; and ending her soliloquy, she quickened her steps, as if trying to escape from her own thoughts. With an effort of the will she turned her attention to the objects and scenes around her, and as she listened to the rushing sound of the river, she thought, What a wonderful thing is such a stream, running on and on for ever! ay, little river, you would like, I suppose, to keep on your course for mere sport, and do no work! but no, you must bear the rafts and drive the mills: all and everything in the world must work, and it is right that it should be so. Yes, that is another cause of grief to him (she meant Ivo); he would like to work, and not to be tied down only to preach and perform mass, and read in those big books; there's no real work in all that. I shall tell him all about it, but I must not let him think that I speak for myself."

"The day at length dawned, and Emmerenz felt her heart lightened she went down to the river, washed her face and smoothed her hair. She stood dreamingly for awhile looking at her own figure reflected in the river; her eyes were fixed upon the water, but she saw nothing: it seemed as if a thought had transported her gaze from the scene around, to fix it vividly upon some object present to her mind. As Emmerenz proceeded, she kept looking about her in astonishment; she felt strange at being alone at sunrise on a spot where she knew no one and nobody knew anything of her. Although indeed she felt the effects of her long walk, she could almost fancy herself suddenly transported hither by magic.

"It was a beautiful August morning, the larks warbled blithely in the air, and the blackbirds' notes were heard in the wood: but all this made no impression upon Emmerenz; she was accustomed to such sounds and scenes, and she tripped along singing a little song to herself.

"In Rottenburg Emmerenz rested awhile, after which she pursued her way with fresh strength and courage. When she came in sight of Tübingen, the difficulty first occurred to her, how she should contrive to see Ivo at the College: by good luck however she recollected that Christina's daughter Lisbeth was in service in the family of an attorney; and a lawyer's servant, thought she, will surely be able to give advice, for all the folks go to her master when they are in trouble. After many inquiries she found Lisbeth, who at first did not know what to advise; but turning the matter over in her mind, she at length said, 'I'll tell you what: stay here for an hour, till the bell tolls; then go and seat yourself in the church, in front on the left hand; you'll see Ivo up in the gallery, and can make him a sign to meet you after service.'

"In the church!' exclaimed Emmerenz, clasping her hands: good heavens! you are dreadfully corrupted in the town: no, I'd rather go back without seeing him at all.'

"Well then help yourself as you can, since you're so very particular.'

"So I will," said Emmerenz, turning away. She now went straight to the college, was announced to the Director, and said in a simple and artless manner that she wished to speak with Ivo. Are you his sister?' asked the Director.

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'No, I am only the servant-maid in the house.'

"The Director looked steadfastly in Emmerenz' face; but she returned his gaze with a look of truth and frankness, and her features were unmoved. The Director ordered the servant to lead her to Ivo."-pp. 372-381.

We have no fear that this extract, though unreasonably long, will be considered tedious. It is poetry and truth itself.

It is hardly necessary to tell the end of the tale. Ivo leaves the university, abandons the profession for which he had at length discovered his unfitness, and, through the generous friendship of his old companion and instructor Nazi, (now grown a rich and prosperous man), he is reconciled to his father, established independently in life, and marries Emmerenz, who had loved him from her very childhood, and under the strong sense of duty and of religion had silently striven against and overcome this misplaced, as she believed, and unrequited affection. Her silent and unrepining struggle, indeed, is described with a

degree of delicacy and feeling, second only to those exhibited in the more elaborate sketch of Ivo.

We have already alluded to the character of Ivo's college friend, Clemens, as a serious defect in the tale. He is represented as a compound of weakness and fanaticism, amiable and affectionate it is true, but the creature of his impulses and feelings, destitute of any higher or holier principle whereby to regulate or control them; utterly unconscious of the true spirit of his exalted calling, and actuated by no loftier or more ennobling motives in pursuing it than are supplied by his own unreflecting and unregulated enthusiasm. The painful impression created by the introduction of this ill-sustained conception would, perhaps, have been obviated by the presentation, as a sort of set-off, of one or two characters which might be fairly taken as representatives of the true spirit of the young ecclesiastic. But the only other students to whom we are introduced, or at least of whom we learn anything in detail, are Constantine, a wild, unruly, and malicious youth, pining to be released from the bondage to which the strong will of his parents alone has consigned him, and Bartel, a poor and unfriended orphan, the happiness of whose student-life consists in his being well-fed and comfortable, a luxury which he had never enjoyed before, and whose prospective happiness in the ministry and aspirings towards its attainment hardly reach beyond the perpetuation of these creature comforts on a larger and less constrained scale.

These, we need hardly say, are grave defects, and though we do not discover in the work any evidence that such a result was contemplated or intended, they have the effect of marring to a great extent its moral tendency as a tale of real life, and of representing the preparatory studies of a young ecclesiastic as a series of cold formalities and harsh and unnatural restrictions, devised for the purpose of subduing the will, and breaking down the spirit and the self-reliance of the youthful candidates for orders. We need hardly say, that in drawing such a picture the author has not only violated the realities of the student-life, notoriously the happiest and most joyous in the career of the ecclesiastic, but has also sacrificed much in artistic effect, by shrinking from a fair delineation of the varieties of character which are always found thrown together in an ecclesiastical college, and which would furnish amp

scope for a pencil ordinarily so truthful and so felicitous as Auerbach's.

In conclusion we must, even with these drawbacks, repeat our thanks to Mrs. Taylor for the service she has rendered in translating these pretty tales. We have not heard whether she purposes to continue her task, and to translate the remaining stories of the collection. Of the two contained in the second volume, there is one"Florian and Crescenz"-which, we trust, she will not think of translating into English. It is a coarse, pointless, and extravagant tale, especially ill-suited to a female pen, and in every way unworthy of Auerbach's former fame. The second, "Der Lauterbacher," though inferior in simplicity to the earlier sketches, and possessing more of what we used to call the German character, is yet in many respects a pleasing and instructive tale; and one which, with a few such judicious retrenchments as Mrs. Taylor has made in her present volume, would form an agreeable addition to our English collection of "Village Tales from the Black Forest.

ART. V.-1. Third Report on Emigration from the United Kingdom. Printed by order of the House of Commons, 29th of June, 1827. 2.-Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth General Reports of the Colonial Land Emigration Commissioner, 1844-5-6.

WE

E sit down to write with a map on our table, which, under the technical name of "Mercators's projection," places this round world before us in the form of a plane. In casting our eye over its surface, it lights at length on a small speck in the eastern hemisphere of earth, scarcely visible, but so important in the views of its constructor, that he had written over it the words "British Isles' in characters so large that they nearly obscure the isles themselves.

Looking towards the east we found vast possessions, illimitable in extent, curious in language, and as yet unsubdued in feeling and in habits-possessions originally gained and kept by British merchants, now an important