L I B R. A R.Y 
 OF THE 
 
 U N I VERS ITY 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 823 
 
 F37 
 
 1831 
 

 
Page 91. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK; 
 
 AN 
 
 ^luto =23 to grapft t cal &feetcf) 
 
 OF THE 
 
 YOUTHFUL DAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 A MUSICAL STUDENT: 
 
 SECOND EDITION, 
 
 WITH 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS BY GEO. CRUIKSHANK. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 R. ACKERMANN, 96, STRAND. 
 
 M.DCCC.XXXI. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/detaifs/ferdinandfranckaOOcrui 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 The very favourable reception of these Me- 
 moirs has encouraged the Publisher to avail 
 himself of the opportunity presented by a new 
 edition, to secure the assistance of the humor- 
 ous graphic talent of Mr. George Cruikshank 
 for their illustration. He flatters himself that 
 the prints from the designs of that unrivalled 
 artist, which, for the first time, accompany 
 this volume, will render the work still more 
 acceptable to the Public, and be the means of 
 extending to a much wider circle that gratifi- 
 cation which it has afforded to all those by 
 whom it has hitherto been perused. 
 
V.'- 
 
 •-ft. 
 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 &c. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE AUTHOR PAYS HIS RESPECTS. 
 
 Whet her the present auto-biographical Sketch 
 had any claims to he put upon record, is a question 
 which the reader will be better able to decide than 
 I am. To me there appeared to he no doubt of 
 the matter ; and it was the fear only of the task 
 being undertaken by others less capable than my- 
 self, that induced me to be my own biographer. 
 Who, I ask, can be more competent to write his 
 life than “ the subject of these Memoirs ?” Let 
 every man tell his own story. He will tell it his 
 own way, it is true ; hut if, as these pages will 
 prove, he knows his own failings, his weak sides 
 — nay, if it he part of his purpose that others 
 should benefit by his errors — if the monument he 
 erects to his own fame be not altogether of Car- 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 rara marble of milky whiteness, but a mosaic, in- 
 termingled with quartz and mica, and here and 
 there even with little fragments of black basalt — - 
 truth, it is hoped, will not be the worse for the 
 narrative. 
 
 Next to candour, brevity will be my aim : far 
 from following the example of the veteran Goethe, 
 whose great celebrity warrants him in thinking 
 the most trifling occurrences in his long career of 
 sufficient importance to posterity to occupy a 
 place in the voluminous tomes of his auto-bio- 
 graphy, I shall make a scrupulous selection from 
 the Journal which I began on the day when the 
 kindness of a more experienced friend performed, 
 for the first time, a premature tonsorian operation 
 upon the downy erstlings of puberty. I shall ex- 
 hibit such incidents only, as appear to me to have 
 influenced, in some degree, my future destiny ; 
 but, while I shall be sparing in this selection of 
 pictures from real life, those that may be deemed 
 fit for exhibition will not be mere outlines, or 
 dauby sketches of a few random strokes. I shall 
 endeavour to make my drawing as correct and 
 neat as I may be able, give it all the advantage 
 of light and shade, and adopt such mode of co- 
 louring as may best suit the subject. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 3 
 
 2 . 
 
 A FAMILY PICTURE. 
 
 Faithful to this pledge, I shall, at one leap, 
 clear the first sixteen years of my existence, and 
 at once introduce the reader to an honest couple, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Franck, my uncle and aunt, who, 
 after the death of my good parents, not only took 
 the poor helpless orphan under their roof, but 
 loved and cherished him as though he were their 
 own child. 
 
 This act of charity was the more meritorious, 
 as Mr. Franck’s means were extremely slender. 
 His annual salary, as schoolmaster in the little 
 town of Feldberg, did not exceed the moderate 
 sum of seventy rix-dollars ; to which may be added 
 a trifling pittance derived from the collection of a 
 small duty on every head of cattle which entered 
 the town, the exemption from house-rent afforded 
 by the public school-house, and the use of a garden 
 attached to it. The perquisites were trifling ; 
 now and then a fat goose, or a ham, from the 
 parents of those boys whose aristocrat skins were 
 more respected than the devoted sedimentals of 
 plebeian urchins ; and, at Christmas time, pork 
 and sausages from every house in the village, 
 except the Jews. 
 
 Originally destined to be my uncle’s successor, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 4 
 
 no pains were spared on his part to perfect the 
 candidate in a calling to which he attached the 
 highest possible merit and importance, and which, 
 it must be owned, he filled with great credit to 
 himself. The precise extent of his Latin know- 
 ledge I was then too young to estimate : but what 
 he possessed of that commodity was by no means 
 locked up in selfish silence ; on the contrary, the 
 most trivial occurrences received elucidation by 
 abundance of proverbs and adages in prose and 
 verse, so frequently applied, that many of these 
 valuable sayings became, in sound at least, quite 
 familiar to my aunt, who would often presume to 
 finish the alien sentence, heedless of the inevitable 
 comparison to a parrot or magpie, to which fea- 
 thered linguists Mr. Franck was pleased, on such 
 occasions, to liken her. The study of numerals 
 being a favourite pursuit, carried on by way of re- 
 laxation even in hours of leisure, no wonder that 
 in this branch he became the theme of conversation 
 and an oracle of consultation to the whole district. 
 In the solution of his problems he did not at all 
 times take the shortest road towards mathema- 
 tical truth ; he was in love with figures, and so 
 did not care how many sixes and sevens trickled 
 from his busy quill : but the truth be would have, 
 in his own way, to the last fragment of a fraction ; 
 nothing prater propter ; he abhorred approximation. 
 
 Mr. Franck’s study of his vernacular tongue, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 5 
 
 tlie German, was carried to so high a degree of 
 perfection, that he talked it differently from any 
 other person whatsoever ; and every such deviation 
 he was able and prepared to support, by argument 
 or analogy, against any opponent except my aunt, 
 whom Nature, in her wisdom, had indemnified 
 by the quantity, for what she lacked in respect of 
 the quality and purity of her own tongue. 
 
 Among the functions connected with my uncle’s 
 situation of schoolmaster was also that of pre- 
 centor, or leader of the vocal effusions of the con- 
 gregation of Feldberg on Sundays ; and in that ca- 
 pacity it formed part of his duty to instruct the 
 boys in singing choral melodies. 
 
 Mr. Franck was likewise a great adept in the 
 science of physiognomy. A small prize in the 
 lottery had enabled him to purchase the work of 
 Lavater, much against the inclination of Mrs. 
 Franck; and none of the boys that entered his 
 school were exempt from a severe physiognomical 
 scrutiny according to the rules given by the great 
 Swiss philosopher. 
 
 I think it necessary to be thus particular in the 
 enumeration of my uncle’s qualifications and occu- 
 pations, because they more or less influenced my 
 subsequent inclinations and destinies. It is in 
 this view that I feel pride in paying a tribute to 
 the strict integrity which pervaded every action of 
 his life. To his moral precepts, and more so to 
 b 3 
 
6 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 the force of his example, I owe, thank heaven, the 
 cheering consciousness of unsullied honesty amidst 
 the numerous aberrations of my youth as well as 
 of a riper age. 
 
 In Mr. Franck’s bills of extras furnished to his 
 scholars, not only not a quill appeared that was 
 not actually delivered, but every article was 
 charged at the price he paid for it. I also well 
 remember a serious difference between him and my 
 aunt, occasioned by the drooping health of one of 
 the pigs, which they were in the habit of keeping. 
 On her proposing to sell the invalid before its con- 
 dition became hopeless, he started with a look of 
 dignified surprise from his elbow-chair, and in this 
 perhaps solitary instance all the special pleadings 
 and thrifty reasonings, which flowed from her va- 
 luable organ of speech, not as milk and honey, but 
 rather like the pelting of a hailstorm, were words 
 to the winds. Mrs. Franck was compelled to 
 close the chromatic duet with the wonted coda : 
 u You are poor, and will be poor all the days of 
 your life.” 
 
 It may be supposed, that my uncle’s quarterly 
 accounts of the receipts of the duty on every 
 head of cattle that entered the gates of Feld- 
 berg were models of correctness. Indeed the 
 rare method which his scrupulous honesty had 
 suggested to him in managing this trust de- 
 serves to be handed down as an example worthy 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 7 
 
 of the imitation of all public accomptants. Let 
 them observe the simple but efficient system of 
 Mr. Franck, and the terms of “ Deficiency in 
 Balances,’* and “ Public Defaulters,” will vanish 
 from the financial vocabulary of nations. Act- 
 ing upon the broad and plain principle, that all 
 the money he received was, not as to amount 
 only, but identically such as it came to him, the 
 property of his employers, the dues he collected 
 passed through his hands no otherwise than by 
 dropping them through a narrow aperture into 
 a box of block-tin. As the padlock of this box 
 was opened by him but once a quarter, in the 
 presence of his superior, the contents of the 
 box invariably corresponded with the accounts. 
 In vain would neighbours request the occasional 
 favour of small change for a gold piece, the tin 
 box remained hermetically closed from quarter- 
 day to quarter-day: in vain the superior’s com- 
 plaints of the tedious operation of counting 
 coppers and small silver; “Such as I had it, 
 such I yield it,” was the invariable reply of my 
 honest uncle. 
 
 Ye stewards, receivers, treasurers, paymasters, 
 and commissaries ! what think you of this talis- 
 man of honesty — the tin box of Mr. Nicholas 
 Franck, schoolmaster, precentor, and collector of 
 cattle-dues at Feldberg ? 
 
8 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 3 . 
 
 LEARNING BY INOCULATION. 
 
 The progress I made in scholastic studies 
 enabled me at an early age to assist effectively in 
 the arduous task of my uncle. I wrote a beauti- 
 ful hand, and my predilection for the Latin ren- 
 dered my proficiency in that language so striking, 
 that, according to his own declaration, I nearly 
 equalled his attainments in it. In short, I was 
 a promising youth, with every reasonable pro- 
 spect to do well in the world, if the world would 
 do fairly by me. Nevertheless, my uncle occa- 
 sionally let drop some hints indicative of his 
 doubts as to my future prosperity in the career of 
 tuition. — Poor man! his own example furnished 
 an argumentum ad hominem. These doubts mani- 
 fested themselves by degrees more explicitly. 
 
 I soon observed, that the secret and solemn dis- 
 cussions, which frequently took place between him 
 and aunt after dinner, had nought but me for 
 their object. 
 
 A newspaper from the capital brought these 
 discussions to a sudden and decisive termination, 
 for a time at least. It was stated, in a demi- 
 official manner, u that his Highness the Grand- 
 Duke, fully impressed with the beneficial effects 
 which attended the new system of mutual instruo- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 9 
 
 tion, upon the Lancasterian plan, graciously in- 
 tended to select a few intelligent young men, to be 
 sent to England with a view to study the system 
 in all its details at the fountain-head, in order that 
 on their return the same might be introduced in 
 every part of the grand-ducal dominions.” 
 
 The paper in question was brought to my uncle 
 by his friend Mr. Knobelsheimer, the doctor of the 
 town, who jocularly observed, that people were 
 never too old to learn ; that my uncle, together 
 with every schoolmaster in the country, would 
 have to journey to the capital, to go to school 
 again for six months or so ; and that perhaps in a 
 year or two there would hardly be any occasion 
 for schoolmasters at all. 
 
 This intelligence acted like a thunderbolt on the 
 frame of Mr. Franck, who entertained the greatest 
 veneration for the profession of which he was a 
 worthy member. When he had somewhat re- 
 covered from the first effects of his alarm and in- 
 dignation, he reproved the vivacious doctor for the 
 levity with which he could treat a matter of such 
 deep importance to the country at large. u May 
 Heaven,” he pathetically exclaimed, “ guide the 
 understanding of our gracious sovereign, and turn 
 him from a purpose so pregnant with mischief and 
 calamity to all his subjects ! If Germans he doom- 
 ed to copy other nations, why imitate their weak- 
 nesses instead of their excellences ? Why not in- 
 
10 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 troduce a constitution similar to the British, and a 
 trial by jury ; why not imitate ‘England in her 
 generous and benevolent institutions, in her public 
 encouragement to merit of all kinds ? Copy her 
 in these and the like things, by all means ; but 
 leave her the mania for mechanisms, so destruc- 
 tive to the prosperity of the people at large. I tell 
 you what, Mr. Knobelsheimer, the English, with 
 their steam-engines, steam-boats, spinning-jennies, 
 rail-ways, threshing-machines, and a thousand 
 other knick-knacks of machinery for diminishing 
 labour, have gradually succeeded in putting hun- 
 dreds of thousands out of bread; while, on the 
 other hand, vaccination has rapidly augmented the 
 breadless population. For this impoverished ex- 
 cess the ordinary and rational means of instruc- 
 tion were deeemed insufficient or too expensive, 
 and so they must be taught by a mechanism of a 
 living kind. For what else can it be called than 
 mere mechanism, when boys teach boys, as I have 
 seen a dozen head of cattle lick each other on our 
 common ? — But in our dear Germany, my good 
 friend, things are not yet come to that pass ; we 
 are not so rich as the English, it is true, but we are 
 less poor too : there are enough to teach, and not 
 too many to be taught. Look at our boys in this 
 place, doctor. ” 
 
 But 1 have pledged brevity to the reader, and 
 this pledge must be violated were I to give but the 
 
FERDINAND FliANCK. 
 
 11 
 
 substance of the remainder of Mr. Franck’s senti- 
 ments on this occasion. In truth, it would be out 
 of my power so to do ; for after having held forth 
 for an hour or so in our parlour, he waxed gradu.. 
 ally hoarse from the exertion ; his organs of speech 
 became parched, and to supply the requisite mois- 
 ture, Mr. Knobelsheimer proposed to adjourn the 
 debate until their arrival at the Three Crowns, 
 where probably farther particulars of these sad 
 tidings might be collected. So forth they sallied 
 down the High-street, in such active discussion all 
 the way, that, at every dozen steps, my uncle made 
 a dead stand to face the doctor, and held him by 
 a button to ensure the desired immobility. 
 
 4 . 
 
 TWO STRINGS TO THE BOW, 
 
 As I had been accustomed to go early to bed, I 
 saw nothing more of my uncle until next morning 
 at breakfast, when he addressed me in nearly the 
 following terms : 
 
 “ The sad intelligence, my dear Ferdinand, is 
 but too true, and our profession, to which I am 
 sure you would have done honour, has nothing 
 but ruin in prospect. But the wise are not to be 
 dismayed by misfortune — impavidumferient ruinae. 
 As for myself, the few years I may have to live 
 render the future of less consequence ; but it is 
 
12 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 my duty to provide for you in tlie best manner my 
 means, or rather my judgment, (for the means 
 are limited indeed), may enable me to do. I do 
 not wish you to forsake the scholastic line entire- 
 ly : times may change, temp, ora mutantur ; and, 
 as the poet says, vosmet serrate rebus secundis : but 
 I mean you to have two strings to your bow ; and 
 thanks to the kindness of Dr. [vnobelsheimer, and 
 to Providence, who never sends what we mortals 
 deem a misfortune without putting the remedy 
 within our reach, the second string is found. The 
 infirmities of the doctor render some of the labo- 
 rious duties of his profession fatiguing to him : 
 the boiling of decoctions and ointments affects his 
 breath ; and he wields the pestle with difficulty. 
 He has in the most friendly manner offered to in- 
 struct you in his art, gratuitously; and, out of 
 friendship to me, he will spare you at such times 
 in the day as may be required for your assisting 
 me as hitherto in the business of the school, and 
 for your own improvement in the scholastic pro- 
 fession. In short, you will have to attend in his 
 shop a few hours in the day, and for the rest live 
 and stay with us as before.” 
 
 The novelty of the thing, together with an in- 
 satiable thirst after knowledge of every kind, and 
 a high degree of ambition which lurked in my 
 whole being, rendered this proposal perfectly 
 
FEU DIN AND FRANCK. 
 
 13 
 
 welcome. My imagination already beheld the doc- 
 tor’s diploma, carriage and horses, in and out- 
 door patients without number, consultations with 
 the rest of the faculty, and splendid medical 
 works, with the name of Ferdinand Franck, M.D. 
 LL.D., &c. 
 
 The very next day I was seen in Dr. Knobels- 
 heimer’s laboratory, girded with a green tammy 
 apron, cheerfully chopping liquorice and sarsapa- 
 rilla for the purification of the juices of an el- 
 derly maiden lady. The town being rather heal- 
 thy just at that time, I had abundant leisure 
 to ransack the little library of my new principal, 
 which by that means became divested of a thick 
 stratum of dust, dead flies, and cobwebs, with 
 which a quiescence of perhaps a quarter of a cen- 
 tury had incrusted every tenant of the shelves. 
 The books were old ; and books, as I have since 
 found, are like wine — not the worse for their age. 
 The difference between old and new books, gene- 
 rally speaking, is, that the former were written in 
 times when authors had more ideas than words ; 
 whereas, at the present day, the case is precisely 
 the reverse. The improvements in literature and 
 language have been so great, that now-a-days two 
 or three ideas, and those perhaps borrowed, may 
 be made to fill as many pages. The art consists 
 partly in expressing the same thing over and over 
 
14 - 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 again in a variety of elegant and rounded periods, 
 and in not following the subject in a servile 
 straight line, as Lapland mice are said to travel f 
 but to digress a little to the left, and a little to the 
 right, like a pert idle spaniel, sauntering through 
 the populous Rue St. Honore, looking in at every 
 open shop-door, lapping at every puddle, sniffing 
 at every corner-stone, and 
 
 But to my old books of anatomy, surgery, pa- 
 thology, botany, materia medica, &c., all which I 
 devoured with the indiscriminating avidity of a 
 youth whose ambition looked upon every folio 
 and quarto as a step in the ladder towards fame 
 and the doctor’s degree. To these venerable 
 tomes I owe a great part of the medical and other 
 knowledge I ever acquired. The materials, it 
 is true, were collected without system or judg- 
 ment ; but a riper age and understanding found 
 them in store, and knew how to separate the ore 
 from the dross, to arrange and order the chaos of 
 crude elements, to supply deficiencies,- and to ex- 
 tend the fabric upon a juvenile but solid foun- 
 dation. It is a trite remark, but a true one, that 
 we know nothing so well and so firmly as what 
 we have learned while young. 
 
 As Mr. Knobelsheimer rather indulged than 
 impeded these theoretical studies, the time passed 
 agreeably enough between his shop and my uncle’s 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 15 
 
 house for a considerable period. But since there 
 is no perfect happiness in this sublunary world, 
 various circumstances presented themselves from 
 time to time, which acted as a drawback on the 
 advantages of my situation. 
 
 5 . 
 
 A MEDICAL LECTURE. 
 
 As there was no regular physician in Feldberg, 
 we had but rarely to compound written prescrip- 
 tions. When any were brought, they generally 
 bore the signature of some celebrated man in the 
 capital, and frequently directed out-of-the-way in- 
 gredients, which Mr. Knobelsheimer deemed un- 
 necessary for the health of mankind, and there- 
 fore disdained to keep in his compendious store. 
 In such cases I was told to substitute quid pro quo ; 
 and the remarks which my conscience urged me 
 to make gave obvious offence to my principal. On 
 other occasions, when casual applicants came for 
 relief in his absence, I was rebuked by him for ad- 
 ministering certain medicaments, although their 
 successful and speedy effect pleaded for their pro- 
 priety. This and other instances of his conduct 
 remained inexplicable to me for some time. 
 
 One Sunday, however, Mr. Knobelsheimer asked 
 me to partake of a goose, which my aunt had sent 
 
16 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 him ; he was unusually kind, and not sparing 
 in filling my glass with his best Hock. Towards 
 the end of the repast, he addressed me nearly as 
 follows : — 
 
 u The attention, my dear Ferdinand, which you 
 have paid to my instructions, and to the business 
 in general, has been the theme of a conversation 
 between your uncle and me in coming from church 
 this morning. The good soul! his face beamed 
 with delight when I told him what I thought of 
 you ; and I have given him a solemn pledge, that 
 nothing shall be wanting on my part to lead you 
 to fame and fortune. I am mistaken, Ferdinand, 
 if, with your talents and industry, you do not one 
 day, and ere long perhaps, make a figure in the 
 profession. ( How I chuckled ! ) But talents and 
 industry, my boy, are not all that ’s required to 
 make one’s way through the world — especially in 
 our calling. Every profession, my dear Ferdinand, 
 has its peculiarities— mysteries I may say: and 
 ours perhaps more than any other. It is now 
 time that you should be initiated in these ; but, 
 before I proceed, I must require your solemn word 
 of honour, that what may now pass between us 
 shall go no farther than these walls. ( I pledged 
 unconditional secrecy.) 
 
 u Your own good sense must already have con- 
 vinced you that, with the exception of a very few 
 remedies of the most simple kind, the multifarious 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 17 
 
 drugs with which we dose our patients are either 
 of no use to them, or downright pernicious. Our 
 livelihood, like that of astrologers, depends chiefly 
 upon their credulity and weakness. If they are 
 cured or relieved, it is, in ninety-nine cases out of 
 a hundred, not through our knowledge or medica- 
 ments. The self-restoring powers of Nature, time, 
 and I may add, faith, generally do the business. — 
 Faith does wonders. I have seen patients getting 
 better from the moment they had merely consulted 
 the doctor,- or had my draughts in the house, al- 
 though, from particular aversions, they had not 
 been able to get one drop of them down their 
 throats. What are we to collect from all this ? 
 What else, but that it behoves us to humour and 
 foster the weaknesses upon which we exist, in all 
 manner of ways ? A great deal depends upon the 
 first interview with the patient. Here a grave, 
 thoughtful, sometimes mysterious countenance, 
 tinctured with a little assumed sympathy, is es- 
 sentially requisite at all times ; but whether to 
 make light of the disorder, or, what is mostly 
 preferable, to affect to consider it in a serious 
 point of view, is a question of some nicety, de- 
 pending upon a tnatured knowledge of mankind 
 in general, and especially upon the particular dis- 
 position of the person we have to work upon. 
 
 u I have found it of infinite service to begin 
 the course, in most cases, by strong cathartics, by 
 c 3 
 
18 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 way of clearing the primes vice. They are sure to 
 lower the subject a peg or two in body and spi- 
 rits, and to prevent a too quick interposition of 
 the restorative powers of Nature ; besides that, 
 such a method affords an opportunity of building 
 up again, by another course of tonics, what the 
 course of cathartics has helped to pull down. As 
 a specific in the art of pulling down, and indeed in 
 a variety of other cases, I recommend mercury to 
 your especial favour. Whatever this divinity may 
 have been with the ancients, who adored him as 
 the god of thieves, to me he has proved the god of 
 riches. You have already seen the liberal use I 
 make of it ; and few that have had a quantum 
 sufficit of it from my store have long been out of 
 my books. It is a powerful, precious medicine ; it 
 shakes the constitution to its very foundation, 
 and when once well amalgamated with it, will 
 keep possession of its station to the last breath, 
 and every now and then proclaim its stay in a 
 thousand different ways, all tending to the benefit 
 of the profession. 
 
 u So much for the beginning, my boy. As to 
 the farther treatment, there is one thing I would 
 particularly recommend : whatever medicines you 
 think proper to send, let them be considerably 
 under the quantum absolutely necessary. I do not 
 mean by this, that you should stint your patient 
 in the quantity of phials and powders, which his 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 IQ 
 
 purse and the distance may render it expedient 
 to administer. It is the quality of the remedies 
 which I more particularly allude to. Let them be 
 as diluted with the pure element as possible. You 
 will by so doing benefit your pocket and the pa- 
 tient too. The cure will be slower, but the more 
 sure, because more scope is left to the operations 
 of Nature. 
 
 44 Nature, however, aided by a good constitu- 
 tion, although generally the doctor’s best friend, 
 very often shows herself too officious in her ser- 
 vices ; in such cases it is our interest to damp the 
 ardour of the frisky dame. To adduce an in- 
 stance, I need only mention the case of Apfel, the 
 wheelwright. When, in my absence, he came to 
 you with the hurt in his ancle, you gave him two 
 kreutzers’ worth of spermaceti ointment. On 
 looking at his leg, I could not but marvel at the 
 folly of such an application. I substituted imme- 
 diately the unguentum hydrargyria and experienced 
 the best effects. The fellow has now a regular 
 sore, which, with proper attention on my part, 
 and the help of the lapis inf emails, may last him 
 for three or four weeks to come. 
 
 44 Another green trick of yours I heard of but 
 the other day. Pray what did you prescribe to 
 Mrs. Bartels, the sexton’s wife, when she came to 
 consult you ?” 
 
20 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 u I advised her to eat every morning, fasting, 
 five or six figs.” 
 
 u Figs indeed ! — I would not give a fig for such 
 a doctor : so you send your patients to the grocer, 
 instead of relieving them yourself, do you ? — But 
 I ask your pardon — my zeal for the profession is 
 carrying me from my purpose. It is not my wish 
 to find fault ; I wish to instruct, to guide you.— 
 Here ’s to your future success, and may you ere 
 long eclipse the Big-wigs in the capital, as I 
 eclipse them with my vital pills! The envious 
 fools procured a prohibition against my prepara- 
 tion, which has doubled their secret sale. We 
 shall make a peck or two this -week, and you will 
 smile at the simplicity of their composition.” 
 
 6 . 
 
 A COLONEL OF HUSSARS. 
 
 The foregoing theoretical disquisition of Doc- 
 tor Knobelsheimer’s was, fortunately for me, in- 
 terrupted by a call for his practical skill. Baron 
 Wolditz, a retired Colonel of Hussars, the great- 
 est man in our little world, had suddenly been 
 taken ill at his residence, two or three miles out 
 of the town. The messenger, his groom, gave 
 but an imperfect account of the symptoms ; but 
 Dr. Knobelsheimer, although thus left uncertain 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 21 
 
 as to the nature of the disorder, nevertheless im- 
 mediately knew the precise potion which it was 
 proper for the Baron to take on this emergency, 
 and I forthwith prepared it according to order. 
 This was another rare talent in my principal. 
 When the patient lived at a distance, the doctor’s 
 sagacity always anticipated the remedy; and, 
 when in doubt, he provided two or three different 
 recipes, all which he took with him ready pre- 
 pared, and for all which he deemed it reasonable 
 that the party affected should pay. This practice 
 had the double advantage of saving me long jour- 
 neys and procuring him long bills. 
 
 As the reader will hear more of this Baron, it 
 may be methodical to add, that in the present in- 
 stance he was saved by the skill of his 
 
 housekeeper, whose excellent liver -dumplings had 
 caused the evil, and whose valuable preparation of 
 wormwood-cordial had removed the most alarm- 
 ing symptoms before the arrival of the professio- 
 nal aid carefully stored in the saddlebags of my 
 master. 
 
 His absence left me at leisure to meditate on 
 the purport of his conversation, which had filled 
 me with amazement and an utter contempt for 
 the man, and left an indelible impression on my 
 mind. From that moment I secretly gave up all 
 thoughts of following the profession of my worthy 
 
22 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 principal. The disgust I felt for him may pro- 
 bably have influenced my subsequent conduct, and 
 rendered me less attentive. Acting now from 
 compulsion rather than choice, the complaint that 
 I had relaxed in the discharge of my services may 
 have been well founded. My uncle, with his 
 usual mildness, but not the less seriously, ques- 
 tioned me once or twice on the subject. This was 
 the first time I had seen him dissatisfied with me, 
 and the thought that I gave displeasure to the 
 best of beings, to my benefactor, to a man whom 
 I adored, harrowed my soul. What embittered 
 my situation was, the pledge of secresy which my 
 master had exacted from me. Had I been at 
 liberty to open my heart to my uncle, instead of 
 reproving me he would have applauded my mo- 
 tives, and freed me at once from the state of 
 misery in which my mind was plunged. 
 
 Even at this moment the remembrance of those 
 distressing days remains in all its vigour, and I 
 am sure my readers have a heart to feel for my 
 situation. It was that of an innocent youth, un- 
 happy for the first time ; miserable from no fault 
 of his own, but rather from a deep sense of right 
 and wrong. Without some favourable change, a 
 frame like mine would soon have sunk under this 
 unmerited depression. My spirits flagged gra- 
 dually; my appetite failed. It was in vain my 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 23 
 
 good aunt’s ingenuity frequently prepared my 
 most favourite dishes for dinner. I came de- 
 jected from my prison-house, and rose sad from 
 table ; I durst not speak my thoughts. 
 
 7 . 
 
 A \ A 
 
 TETE-A-TETE. 
 
 Know’st thou, reader, the guardian angel that 
 can pour balm into the wounded heart of man ? 
 Hast thou ever unbosomed thy soul to that guar- 
 dian angel ? unbosomed it in vain ? 
 
 It was on a Whitsunday I had risen from 
 dinner and seated myself under a favourite mul- 
 berry-tree in my uncle’s garden, to muse on my 
 forlorn condition, while he indulged in his usual 
 afternoon’s rest. Nature had begun to assume 
 her festive attire ; a mild vernal sun diffused in- 
 vigorating warmth, and shed his cheering lustre 
 around. All was still, and the repose of the day 
 which the Christian devotes to the Almighty ren- 
 dered this stillness more striking and more af- 
 fecting. Nothing was to be heard but the wanton 
 sonorous buzzing of insects resuscitated from their 
 wintry torpor ; the dallying quavers of surround- 
 ing bullfinches ; the long and musical minims of a 
 more distant blackbird ; and the gentle rustling of 
 the new-born foliage, moved, at starts, by the 
 
94 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 transient gusts of the balmy breath of infant 
 summer. Multitudes of bees hummed around the 
 modest daisies ; others quaffed deep the hidden 
 sweet in the polyanthus and violet : even the 
 beetles bustled with contentment over the new- 
 raked mould of my uncle’s tulip-beds. All around 
 appeared joyous and happy ; I alone felt forlorn, 
 destitute, and friendless. This reverie was for a 
 moment interrupted by the noise of Sultan’s efforts 
 to clamber over the garden-gate. He hastened 
 joyfully to the mulberry-tree ; the index of canine 
 temper wagged to and fro in vain, I was not in a 
 mood to return his civilities. The curly poodle, 
 apparently sensible of the unmerited neglect, 
 placed himself right before me, and staring me sig- 
 nificantly in the face, began a bark of expostula- 
 tion. He certainly meant to say, “ What ails my 
 kind master ?” Fearful he might disturb my 
 uncle, I paid him some little attention ; but his 
 barking brought Lisbeth, our maid, to the spot. 
 
 Between Lisbeth and me there existed a tacit 
 compact of rustic but close attachment. I had 
 found her at my uncle’s seven years before, when 
 the death of my parents had transferred me to his 
 care. She then cherished the orphan-boy; her 
 kindness ever since had been the same ; under her 
 fostering care I had grown from a little urchin to 
 the verge of manhood : it was not above a twelve- 
 month ago that, from a sense of decorum, she dis- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 25 
 
 continued washing me in a tub on Saturday eve- 
 nings. Considering the foible which afterwards 
 discovered itself in my disposition, I wonder I 
 never fell in love with her, for Lisbeth had fine 
 eyes and pleasing features. 
 
 44 Again alone, Master Ferdinand,” she exclaim- 
 ed, seating herself on the bench by my side — 44 in 
 low spirits again, as usual. Come, cheer up ; young 
 blood must not be downhearted. What is the mat- 
 ter, Ferdinand ? What ails you ?” 
 
 44 Nothing — nothing at all, good Lisbeth. I am 
 very well, as you see.” 
 
 44 y er y we ll indeed ; and have left three parts 
 of the spara^rass on your plate, which you never 
 could get enough of. Much as I like it myself, I 
 could not bring my heart to eat what you left ; for 
 I was sure your being unhappy made you leave 
 it.” 
 
 44 I had no great appetite to-day.” 
 
 44 No great appetite to-day ; no appetite yes- 
 terday ; no appetite all the week. There is a 
 something, I am sure ; and your aunt, too, says 
 you are not as you should be. She is now boil- 
 ing some of her physic for you, which you are 
 to take to-morrow morning, first thing.” 
 
 44 I have physic enough at Dr. Knobelshei- 
 mer’s. I don’t want physic.” 
 
 44 So I told her ; 4 it an’t the stomach,’ says I 
 to my mistress, 4 it be the heart, that ’s out of 
 order.’ ” D 
 
26 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 u The heart! Lisbeth. I hope the heart is 
 sound.” 
 
 u Sound or not sound, Master Ferdinand, I tell 
 you what — I say you are in love, and that ’s the long 
 and the short of it. I knows what it is. I have 
 been twice in love, — I may say three times ; and I 
 never could relish a morsel all the while, nor sleep 
 a wink but when I was dreaming. When that 
 
 creature, Martens, the weaver ” 
 
 “ I assure you, Lisbeth, you are quite mistaken ; 
 I am not in love. To say the truth, I do not even 
 know what it is to be in love.” 
 
 “ There, now we have it, just because you do 
 not know it, you are in love ; now it is quite cer* 
 tain ; and what ’s more, I know the girl. Didn’t 
 you promise Mary Dickel, the blacksmith’s girl, 
 the first handful of cherries that would be ripe in 
 our garden ?” 
 
 u I did, because she is the best writer at uncle’s 
 evening school, and does me the most credit. I 
 never spoke two words with her, but what I may 
 have said in school-time in the hearing of all the 
 girls. I assure you, upon my word, it is not what 
 you call love that affects my spirits.” 
 
 u I know you always speak true, therefore I be- 
 lieve you. ( After a solemn pause. ) Ferdinand, have 
 you done any thing wrong? Tell it to your friend 
 Lisbeth ; it can’t be so bad that there shouldn’t be 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 27 
 
 a help for it. Come, tell it all. There is perhaps 
 , a something on your conscience.” 
 
 u My conscience is as clear as the pure sky over 
 our heads.” 
 
 “ Dear, dear, what can it be ? What can it 
 be ? — Now I have it ; them musty books that he 
 be reading all day long at the doctor’s have turned 
 the youth’s brain. Ay, ay, books are sad things 
 for young people. God forgive me ! I wish all the 
 books were burnt, but just the Bibles and Cate- 
 chisms, and such like. There be no good coming 
 from any on ’em. For one good thing 'in ’em, 
 there be bushels of bad ones : and the Latin books, 
 I am told, are the worst of all. I wish you had 
 never been at that doctor’s.” 
 
 u You are right, Lisbeth ; X too wish I had 
 never seen him.” 
 
 “ And so says your aunt ; and I can tell you 
 there has been high words about it last night after 
 you went to bed. He is a fine one, with a smooth 
 face and a wicked heart ; I am sure, ( sobbing ), but 
 for him I should now be married to poor Bob, 
 whom he killed by his drugs ; and do you know, 
 the wretch had the impudence to make up to me, 
 not three weeks agone. What d’ye think he put 
 in my hand ? A six-batzner,* forsooth ; but I 
 flung the money in his nasty face. He was artful 
 
 * A German coin, worth about nine- pence. 
 
28 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 enough to get me to promise not to tell ; but I 
 told it ail to your aunt after the quarrel last night* 
 when she and I went to set the speckled hen ; 
 and 1 told her, that I ’d rather’ leave the house 
 than see you any longer with Dr. Knob. I am 
 sure he treats you like a dog behind your uncle’s 
 face.” 
 
 u I have no particular reason, dear Lisbeth, to 
 complain of his treatment ; but his principles are 
 not those which uncle taught me to regard. He 
 is a man of bad character, in every respect. Thus 
 much I am at liberty to say to you ; for I too 
 have pledged my word to him about certain things, 
 and I mean to keep it better than you did, Lis- 
 beth. Even what has passed, you must promise 
 not to let go farther, for my sake.” 
 
 At these words the kind-hearted girl, with a 
 tear in her eye, pressed my hand with fervent 
 emotion, exclaiming, “ For your sake, I will tell 
 all the world that he wants to make as great a 
 rogue of you as he is himself !” 
 
 It was with the utmost difficulty I obtained from 
 this excellent creature the promise to observe, for 
 a few days only, an absolute silence with regard 
 to the conversation that had passed between us. 
 As the time for afternoon-service was near, and 
 her longer absence from the house might be no- 
 ticed by my aunt, she left me with the most 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 29 
 
 affectionate exhortation to cheer up my spirits, as 
 she was sure a favourable change could not be far 
 distant. 
 
 8 . 
 
 A CLEAR SKY. 
 
 Although the comparison between sorrows 
 and a heavy burden is hackneyed, its practical use 
 is often neglected. As the pressure of the latter 
 is lightened when shared with others, so does 
 grief lose its corroding poignancy, whenever we 
 iind, or rather choose to find, a sympathising 
 heart to which to impart our sorrows. The act of 
 , communication alone operates beneficially; where- 
 as grief, buried in the breast, like foul air locked 
 up in a subterraneous cavern, augments its deadly 
 poison. Man is destined to be communicative : 
 his sorrows are lightened, as his joys are enhanced, 
 by communication. The selfish, the unfeeling 
 part alone of our species keep both to themselves ; 
 and thus it is that their joys are barren, their 
 sorrows most bitter. 
 
 After the interview with Lisbeth, every sur- 
 rounding object, as if by magic, appeared in gayer 
 colours ; a cheering spark of hope reanimated my 
 breast ; it seemed as if the bonds between me and 
 the rest of the human race were tied anew. Re- 
 d 3 
 
30 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 freshed and light in heart, I re-entered the house, 
 at the moment when my uncle was descending the 
 staircase, wig in hand, to prepare for the after- 
 noon service. Meth ought I saw him wipe a tear 
 from his eye ; but his countenance looked placid 
 and benevolent. “ Art ready, Peg ?” said he, with 
 his usual kindness ; and in a few minutes he and 
 aunt and I crossed the rural church-yard, where 
 the rose-trees which I had planted on the grave of 
 my parents were vigorously budding into leaf. 
 
 In spite of the best efforts I made to assist my 
 uncle in the hymn, my intonation seemed unusu- 
 ally unequal and faulty ; the youth’s advancing 
 maturity was in conflict between the waning fe- 
 male diapason and the approaching tenor scale of 
 manhood Our good parson’s pulpit eloquence 
 was generally of the homelier kind ; nevertheless, 
 his plain language and delivery made a forcible 
 impression on my mind, for his text was — 
 u Blessed are they which are persecuted for righ- 
 teousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of 
 heaven.” 
 
 The instrument which is tuned in harmonics 
 accordant with the tonic in which a performance 
 takes place upon another, covibrates, by a process 
 of mystic sympathy, in sweet concord. In the 
 same manner did the simple but pure illustrations 
 of this text vibrate to my very soul ; they were 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 31 
 
 balm to my heart, and completed the process of 
 mental reinvigoration which had so happily be- 
 gun in my whole frame. Upon my uncle, too, 
 the effects of our minister’s sermon were forcibly 
 obvious, prepared as he had been in my favour by 
 the conversation which had passed between Lis- 
 beth and me under the mulberry-tree ; and which, 
 as I afterwards learned, he had overheard from 
 his bed-room window. 
 
 9. 
 
 A CONJUGAL rBOMENADE. 
 
 No sooner had we left church, than Mr. Franck 
 proposed a walk to the country, observing that he 
 wished to discuss some matters of importance on 
 the way. My aunt had no objection to the walk, 
 provided her spouse would not run before all the 
 way ; but as for talking upon serious matters, she 
 observed that home was the best place for such a 
 purpose. In this proposal of my uncle’s there 
 might have been an innocent little stratagem. He 
 foresaw objections to the arrangements he had in 
 view, and he knew that the argumentative elo- 
 quence of his better half was irresistible when dis- 
 played in her own parlour, where the vis motrix 
 could be exclusively concentrated in her tongue ; 
 whereas, when this moving power was in part as- 
 
32 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 signed to the leg6, the volubility of the former, by 
 a plain law of mechanics, must lose some of its 
 force ; the more so as my aunt frequently suffered 
 from a shortness of breath. 
 
 The particulars of the peripatetic discussion 
 which ensued I must omit for brevity’s sake. Its 
 topic, as may be supposed, was my stay at Dr. 
 Knobelsheimer’s. His doubtful character being 
 now admitted riem. con. y my aunt insisted on my 
 being instantly withdrawn from the instruction 
 and society of a man, whose principles and ex- 
 ample might contaminate my innocence. But 
 uncle, at all times averse to rash steps, and desi- 
 rous of saving appearances with the doctor, was 
 of opinion, that the very ; cause of the present con- 
 sultation afforded sufficient proof, if any were 
 necessary, of principles so honourable and incor- 
 ruptible on my part, that it would be perfectly 
 idle to apprehend danger on that score, and that 
 it was the essence of virtue to remain virtuous in 
 situations of temptation and difficulty. He then 
 observed, that, considering the great progress I 
 had already made in medical studies, it would be 
 a thousand pities to forsake them rashly, instead 
 ‘of increasing my stock of knowledge while an op- 
 portunity offered, and while there was no imme- 
 diate prospect of applying my abilities to some 
 other useful pursuit. His opinion therefore was, 
 that for the moment I should continue to attend 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 83 
 
 at Dr. Knobelsheimer’s as I had done before, and 
 endeavour to improve myself in the profession to 
 the best of my power, until something else might 
 present itself, or until I found it impossible to go 
 on without trenching upon those principles of up- 
 rightness which had more than ever endeared me 
 to him on the present occasion. He added, that, 
 with the understanding which now subsisted be- 
 tween us on this matter, and with the knowledge 
 that my attendance at the doctor’s was to be con- 
 sidered as merely temporary, he made no doubt I 
 should see how much the case was now altered ; 
 and that, under these circumstances, my stay with 
 the doctor would not be attended with the diffi- 
 culties and uncomfortable feelings which I had 
 experienced before. 
 
 Notone of these plausible positions being con- 
 ceded on the part of Mrs. Franck, the discussion 
 by degrees grew animated, and soon changed into 
 warm and vehement dispute. At first her re- 
 joinders exhibited much oratorical regularity, and 
 a suitable extent of close reasoning ; but in pro- 
 portion as my uncle put his best foot foremost, 
 and walked as fast as she talked, Mrs. Franck 
 lost ground and breath, and her arguments be- 
 came more laconic, although not less forcible. In 
 this crisis, however, her good sense soon discover- 
 ed the default caused in her organs of speech by 
 the pedestrian exertion ; and, by a bold manoeuvre, 
 
34 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 she sat herself down on the bank by the road-side. 
 In this position, with my uncle upon his legs, 
 buttressed in the back upon his long walking-cane, 
 right opposite to her, Mrs. Franck soon recovered 
 her lost ground in the debate, and -appeared a per- 
 fect Amazon in argument. 
 
 As it now appeared more than probable that 
 this controversy would soon proceed to an unplea- 
 sant rupture, I interposed my mediation; when, 
 to my utter surprise, peace was restored in a few 
 minutes, and the two contending parties agreed, 
 as the dispute had arisen on my account, that it 
 should be amicably terminated by a casting vote 
 on my part ; that I should choose myself, whether 
 I would go back to the doctor’s, or leave him at 
 once ; each party pledging itself to rest quite sa- 
 tisfied with my resolution, whichever way it went. 
 I pronounced for the temporary return to my 
 iEsculapian studies ; we walked home contentedly, 
 and supped heartily ; and on the following day 
 I resumed my chemical functions, as if nothing- 
 had occurred, with a lightened heart and good 
 spirits. 
 
 10 . 
 
 THE UUEUE. 
 
 Some time after this restoration of matters in 
 statum quo , a circumstance occurred, which, al- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 35 
 
 though trifling in itself, gave a decisive turn to’ 
 my future destinies. 
 
 The reader has already been introduced to the 
 acquaintance of Baron Wolditz, the retired Hussar 
 colonel in our neighbourhood. His only son, 
 a wicked dog of about twelve or thirteen, was 
 one of the few Latin pupils my uncle’s school 
 could boast of, previously to his removal to the 
 College in the capital. His Latin, it is true, 
 like all his other literary accomplishments, (ex- 
 cept reading, and writing a hieroglyphic sort 
 of penmanship,) was absolutely nominal; but 
 as the father, although priding himself upon 
 being able to read Cornelius JVepos , conceived 
 literary attainments to be but secondary con- 
 siderations in the education of a young Baron 
 destined to be a cornet of Hussars, young Wolditz 
 was pretty much left to his own inclination in re- 
 gard to serious studies. One thing only gave the 
 father real cause for regret. Baron Fritz had no 
 ear for music, except that of drums and fifes ; 
 while the father had been one of the greatest ama- 
 teurs in his regiment, played the flute very re- 
 spectably, and sang opera-airs with an expression 
 and grace peculiar to the tottering tremor of a 
 weather-beaten colonel of sixty. Baron Fritz re- 
 ceived lessons from my uncle on the piano-forte, 
 whenever the former could be found at the ap- 
 pointed hour of tuition, or the condition of the 
 
36 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 instrument admitted of any instruction at all : for 
 he would often hide himself in the hay -loft to es- 
 cape the hour of musical drill ; and, like Orpheus* 
 whose lyre subdued ferocious animals, Baron Fritz 
 would sometimes employ the thicker wires of the 
 piano to make neat little chains to confine owls 
 and sparrow-hawks. 
 
 I had at times been permitted to accompany my 
 uncle in these his professional walks to the Ba- 
 ron’s, whose hospitable treats in Hock and cinna- 
 mon-cakes I still remember as the nectar and am- 
 brosia of my youthful palate — They do not make 
 these cakes near so good at the present day. — -On 
 the above occasions, when, after a fruitless search 
 and lusty call after Fritz, a writ of u non est inven- 
 tus” was returned by the sheepish groom, who 
 well knew where his favourite might have been 
 found, the Baron, after uttering various tre- 
 mendous cavalry-oaths, and swearing by all that 
 is sacred to put the deserter twenty -four hours 
 into the stocks, generally proposed to fill up the 
 time by a little music of his own. He then sang 
 an air or two of Hasse or J omelli, and I was some- 
 times allowed to join in a duet. The Baron 
 always praised both my voice, as one of the 
 finest sopranos, and my natural talent for music ; 
 and he often tried to persuade my uncle to bring 
 me up to the art, offering to contribute fifty rix- 
 dollars per annum towards my musical education 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 37 
 
 in the capital. But Mr. Franck’s views in re- 
 gard to my future destinies, if at all settled, were 
 directed another way. He observed, not without 
 some truth, that out of one hundred bred to the 
 profession, scarcely one possessed sufficient genius 
 to arrive at real eminence ; and the remaining 
 ninety-nine were doomed to linger in obscurity, 
 and drag on a laborious and precarious existence — . 
 mere mechanics of wires and catgut. 
 
 One day, however, Baron Fritz, to our great 
 surprise, was at his post ; and, to my uncle’s 
 astonishment and his father’s rapturous delight, 
 went through the manual exercise of crotchets and 
 quavers with much apparent perseverance. This 
 act of resignation was rewarded not only with 
 abundance of parental kisses, but with a bran-new 
 six-batzen coin, by way of farther encouragement. 
 After the lesson, Fritz, in great confidence, solved 
 the mystery of his seeming reformation : his fa- 
 ther’s birthday was to be next week, on which 
 occasion a little previous accommodation would 
 not fail to procure him a handsome donation ; and 
 to make sure of an abundant harvest, as his father 
 was very fond of Latin, he requested I would 
 frame a Latin speech of congratulation, which, 
 provided it were very short, he would learn by 
 heart against next Wednesday. I was expressly 
 charged to allude to the sire’s military valour and 
 
38 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 achievements, and particularly to the battle of 
 Rosbach, in which the old Baron had a horse shot 
 under him, and was saved from decapitation by 
 the miraculous intervention of his notable Ger- 
 man hair queue, which one out of three French 
 dragoons cut clean in twain, leaving a dreadful 
 and everlasting gash on the os humeri ; so that 
 from that day the man of war never held up his 
 head, but, like the Macedonian hero, and the 
 great Frederic himself, under whose banners Herr 
 von Wolditz then and there so bravely did fight, 
 was forced to incline it forward to the left. 
 
 The aforesaid fierce encounter hung, fairly de- 
 picted, framed and glazed, in the Baron’s saloon, 
 in which, on every anniversary of the battle of 
 Rosbach, a sumptuous entertainment was given to 
 the neighbouring gentry, including some old com- 
 rades in arms from the capital. At half -past 
 three, the time of the above catastrophe, as nearly 
 as could be guessed, the Baron, with a solemn 
 step, advanced towards the picture, and touched a 
 secret spring in the frame ; when, lo ! part of the 
 dark foreground, consisting of cannon dismounted, 
 powder-waggons, dead and wounded, &c. would, as 
 if by magic, detach itself from the upper part, sink 
 into the deep frame, and exhibit to the assembly of 
 heroes the identical queue, the sacred relic of Wol- 
 ditzian prowess. At that moment the company 
 would rise on their legs, and the Baron, in an audi- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 39 
 
 voice, exclaim, u JEs lebe dev Zopf /” (The queue 
 for ever !) and drink a bumper of old Hock. 
 
 But to return to the birthday address de- 
 manded by Baron Fritz. Flattered vanity prompted 
 me to accept a task from which a common degree 
 of modesty ought to have made me shrink. It 
 was my first literary essay, and moreover was to be 
 in Latin ! a language in which, whatever my uncle 
 might think, I had made but moderate progress, 
 and in which the Colonel was reputed to be so great 
 a proficient, that any fault of mine would not es- 
 cape his classic ken, and at once lower me in his 
 estimation. But, like thousands I have since met 
 with, what I wanted in knowledge was compensated 
 by unblushing assurance. In short, that evening 
 I penned the oration in German, and before break- 
 fast the next day it was translated into a very 
 homely sort of Latin, beginning with 
 
 u Carissime pater, patriae ornamentum , inimico- 
 rumque terror!” 
 
 ( Cetera desunt. ) 
 
 Baron Fritz, as if he had been a publisher, de- 
 claring the composition to be much too long, a pain- 
 ful curtailment was necessary to adapt it to his 
 slender powers of memorizing. Several rehearsals 
 took place, the last of which, on the eve of the im- 
 portant day, gave fair promise. 
 
40 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 H. 
 
 A GAP. 
 
 There are moments in life, the most minute 
 circumstances of which will never be effaced from 
 our recollection. I was papering pill-boxes in Mr. 
 Knobelsheimer’s shop the next morning, when Ja- 
 cob, the Baron’s groom, entered, and in a solemn 
 official tone delivered to me an invitation to dine 
 with his master and the Baron Fritz. The sudden 
 communication of the delightful message almost 
 overpowered my spirits. This unexpected distinc- 
 tion, the almost certain inference of the successful 
 result of my literary labour, quite set me beside 
 myself. With my principal’s consent I forthwith 
 left the pill-boxes in their crude chip, and hastened 
 home to make the suitable preparations of dress ; 
 for the Baron, as has already been mentioned, in- 
 variably had great company on his natal day. 
 
 Aunt was in ecstasy ; and uncle, instantly called 
 from school, now for the first time heard, with in- 
 ward delight and surprise, the cause to which I was 
 indebted for the approaching honour. He desired 
 forthwith to see the specimen of my Latin oratory ; 
 but Mrs. Franck prudently interposed a word of 
 
 infinite force and import in female rhetoric 
 
 u Nonsense , my dear, there ’s no time now for 
 reading Latin speeches ; let him be dressed first. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 41 
 
 Dressed, ay ! what ’s the lad to put on, for God’s 
 sake ?” — < 
 
 The latter sentence, like a blight over vernal 
 blossoms, in an instant blasted the buoyancy of my 
 joy. I had never given it a thought that my ward- 
 robe was miserably imperfect, owing partly to the 
 slender means of the family, and to the rapid growth 
 of my age. My best coat had become fashionably 
 short behind, but the cuffs had unfortunately 
 made vast strides in their advances towards the 
 elbows ; the breeches might perhaps, by merciless 
 bracing, have been brought into some approxi- 
 mation with their upper neighbour, if that had 
 been of reasonable length ; but the scarlet waist- 
 coat, in which I had been confirmed, had, months 
 ago, shown a reluctance of amicable contact. 
 
 'My uncle readily and generously offered the loan 
 of his own black satin ; but on trial it was found to 
 be in the other extreme, the protecting powers of 
 its two pocket-flaps extending to but a short dis- 
 tance from the knees. Under all circumstances, 
 therefore, the scarlet was deemed preferable to the 
 black satin ; and this settled, my uncle returned 
 to his scholastic duties, after divers instructions as 
 to conduct among my betters ; instructions which 
 dated from the bon genre of half a century ago, and 
 were remarkable for the honeyed politeness and 
 unbounded submissiveness which they inculcated. 
 
 E 3 
 
FERDINAND FRAN Civ, 
 
 Hair-powder being deemed indispensable oil so 
 exalted an occasion, aunt exerted a degree of plas- 
 tic powers on my pericranial environs, which, in 
 the metamorphose they effected, truly surprised 
 and delighted me. In order to create a brace of 
 side-buckles, resembling in length and shape a 
 Brunswick cervelat , she imitated those skilful 
 financiers who borrow of their own — a proceeding 
 which at all events is no robbery. My usual queue 
 being of goodly thickness, she contrived to borrow 
 part of its contents ; which being, by means of a 
 diagonal advance, brought from the rear to both 
 flanks, admitted, by the help of powder and stiff 
 pomatum, to be comfortably rolled up with the 
 shorter hair encircling my ears, and fixed by three 
 hair-pins of black japan. Thus far, I was a very 
 Adonis in the looking-glass. 
 
 But the scarlet, on actual trial, gave alarmiiig 
 uneasiness. All the powers of mechanism -inherent 
 in straps were incapable of effecting the wished-for 
 union with its lower neighbour ; an hiatus valde 
 dejiendus , resembling one of the lunulae of Hypocra- 
 tes, and not unlike the space between the ecliptic 
 and the equator, presented itself at the slightest 
 upright motion ; and the evil was aggravated by the 
 coarseness of the shirt, made of home-spun and 
 home-bleached hemp. Here again female dex- 
 terity devised an ingenious remedy. The lawn 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 43 
 
 handkerchief with which aunt hid her virgin 
 blushes at the altar, the only one she possessed, 
 (the others being all blue and red striped,) this 
 nuptial relic was neatly stitched to my shirt about 
 the hypochondriac region, and tucked into the 
 ecliptic zone below ; thus affording the consolation, 
 that on the eventual, and probably unavoidable, 
 exposure of the hiatus , the ecliptic space would ex* 
 hibit a goodly sight of the purest white, a very 
 x>ia lactea. * 
 
 12 . 
 
 AMELIA. 
 
 Thus arrayed, thus comforted, I proceeded with 
 placid self-content to the Baron’s, and was met in 
 the hall by Baron Fritz, eager to introduce me to 
 the company. He would scarcely leave me time 
 to ask the particulars of the success of the Latin 
 oration, but held up a new double louis-d’or, the 
 reward which his exertions had earned him, and 
 handed to me a sealed note from his father. Be* 
 fore 1 had time to open it, I heard the old Baron’s 
 voice exclaiming, u Walk up, Mr. Ferdinand ! 
 walk up !” 
 
 While we were ascending the ancient oak stair* 
 case, Baron Fritz kept tittering and chuckling in 
 a strange manner, and from his puffed cheeks 
 
Ik FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 burst those sonorous blasts, the tell-tale relics of a 
 repressed horse-laugh. — Naturally imagining these 
 unseemly sounds to be caused by the state of my 
 costume, I lost much of the consequential self-pos- 
 session I had conjured up while walking alone 
 from the village of Feldberg ; and with awkward 
 bows, and deep blushes, presented my rural indivi- 
 duality before the Colonel and a company of ten or 
 twelve guests of both sexes. Before I had time to 
 survey the convivialists, the Baron took me by the 
 hand, and with blunt affability introduced me to 
 his guests as the friend of Baron Fritz, an accom- 
 plished scholar, a musical genius — in short, a pro- 
 digy of youthful perfection. u By G , gen- 
 
 tlemen,” he exclaimed, u Mr. Ferdinand is the 
 pride of our district ; I ’ll match him against any 
 youth in the capital ; and if his uncle will let me 
 have my wish, he shall not rot among the cabbages 
 and bean-stalks of Feldberg.” 
 
 Gross as this flattery was, it gave me a great 
 opinion of my importance, and helped to restore 
 my lost countenance. Recovering my powers of 
 observation, I noticed, amidst two or three couple 
 of an advanced, age, two young sparks, whose fa- 
 shionable appearance sadly contrasted with my 
 rustic costume, and three young ladies, nymphs in 
 the most graceful attire. My eyes, when they 
 durst look up, were rivetted on the charms of one 
 of these, Miss Amelia Waldheim, a goddess, as I 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 45 
 
 thought, in human form ; Hebe personified. Me- 
 thought I was in a new world ; all seemed magic 
 to me. A look from Miss Waldheim at once 
 raised to an immeasurable height the standard of 
 female beauty which the rustic charms of Mary 
 Dickel, the blacksmith’s daughter, had hitherto 
 fixed in my imagination. This look, like the Pro- 
 methean torch, kindled for the first time the latent 
 fire of a sensation I had ngver experienced before : 
 if it did not engender love, it certainly quickened 
 the embryo of the passion. 
 
 In these contemplations of the beautiful I was 
 often interrupted and sorely annoyed by one of the 
 dandies of the capital, who, deeming my exterior 
 fair game for the display of his wit, more than 
 once succeeded in exposing me to the ridicule of 
 his companions. At first I patiently bore the 
 brunt of his jokes ; but when my forbearance 
 augmented his impudence, and Miss Waldheim’s 
 remarks in my behalf gave me some assurance, I 
 determined, if possible, to pay the essenced Cornet 
 in his own coin. Among other questions, I still 
 remember his asking me, what was the greatest 
 
 number of turnips I had ever pulled in one day ? 
 
 to which I replied, 66 twice as many as he probably 
 could count.” Although my answer raised a 
 laugh against the man of colours, he prudently 
 joined in it, and exclaimed, with feigned satisfac- 
 tion, “ Come, that ’s not amiss — smart, excessively 
 
46 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 smart.” Soon after, he paid me some ironical 
 compliments on my scholarship, and asked whether 
 I did not intend to publish something soon; in 
 which case he would feel proud to become a sub- 
 scriber. My answer was, 66 that I might pro- 
 bably be induced to write something on impudence, 
 which, with his permission, I would dedicate to 
 him.” — u Bravo 1” exclaimed Baron Wolditz; 
 “ bravo, Mr. Ferdinand ! I told you what sort of 
 metal he was made of. You had better sound a 
 retreat, Cornet ; or else you will find you have the 
 wrong pig by the ear.” 
 
 The entrance of a servant, with the information 
 that dinner was on the table, put an end to this 
 skirmish of rustic wit with the man of colours, 
 who for the rest of the day conducted himself to- 
 wards me with respectful discretion. Mindful of 
 the wise instructions of uncle, in matters strange 
 to my experience always to wait and see what 
 others might do, I stood demurely behind the 
 door, eyeing at a distance certain cards placed 
 upon each napkin, from which I concluded that 
 some social game was to precede the play of knives 
 and forks. This erroneous induction, however, 
 was dissipated by a summons from Miss Wald- 
 heim to seat myself at her left, conformably to 
 the directions of the cards. The Baron soon dis- 
 covered that Fritz, in a frolic, had entirely changed 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 47 
 
 the preconcerted order of sitting. Matters were 
 re-organised, but Miss Waldheim insisted upon 
 retaining the neighbours whom chance or Fritz’s 
 whim had assigned her. To this excellent crea- 
 ture I became indebted for many valuable hints 
 touching the bon genre . Thus, when I sat at arm’s- 
 length from the table, spooning the craw-fish soup 
 slowly and cautiously towards its distant destina- 
 tion, she kindly whispered, u Come close, Mr. 
 Ferdinand ; do in all things as I do.” — u Then,” I 
 rejoined, u I shall do well indeed ; but I fear it 
 will be Vulcan imitating the graceful movements 
 of the Queen of Love.” 
 
 The man of colours, opposite, observing the 
 sudden blush on Amelia’s cheeks, swore that Mr. 
 Ferdinand must have said a good thing, which the 
 company had a right to hear. u Not near so good, 
 Sir,” she replied, 64 as what he told you before 
 dinner.” 
 
 Under the guidance of my lovely Mentor, all 
 went well during the repast ; I made rapid studies 
 in the science of bon ton , which, to my astonish- 
 ment, instead of coinciding with the maxims of 
 restraint and humility inculcated by my uncle, 
 appeared to consist simply in unaffected ease and 
 affability. 
 
48 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 13 . 
 
 A LITTLE MUSIC. 
 
 After the coffee and a turn in the garden.* 
 music was proposed. Amelia sent for a parcel 
 from the landau which had brought her uncle 
 and her from the capital, and at the request of the 
 Baron selected a sonata. If I recollect right, it 
 was one of Haydn’s — Here, too, my musical taste 
 experienced a total revolution. The most modern 
 pieces in my uncle’s repertory were six u suites” 
 of Christian Bach, which hitherto I had deemed 
 the non plus ultra of the beautiful in instrumen- 
 tals, and which I had been taught by uncle to per- 
 form in a hard homely style, slow, with a preci- 
 sion of time equal to clock-work, and with innu- 
 merable embellishments of turns, tremolos, and 
 shakes of all lengths. 
 
 When Amelia began to prelude, it seemed as if 
 her soul had transfused itself into her fingers ; 
 every passage had a meaning, and spoke to the 
 heart : but when she came to the adagio, I was 
 plunged ink) a trance of raptures. The most 
 powerful, the sweetest emotions, alternately seized 
 my frame ; and as I turned the leaf, an involun- 
 tary tear dropped on the keyboard. She observed 
 the tribute which her sensibility had exacted; and 
 never shall I forget the transient glance of inef- 
 fable sweetness with which she looked up to me. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 49 
 
 When the sonata was over, the Baron desired I 
 would join in a vocal duet with Miss Waldheim. 
 A book of an Italian opera was produced, in which, 
 from my ignorance of the language, I begged to 
 be excused from taking a part. The Cornet, with 
 a sneer, observed, that Mr. Ferdinand perhaps 
 could favour the company with a Latin song — 
 “ And so he shall !” exclaimed Miss Waldheim. I 
 have a beautiful duet from a Mass of Haydn’s, 
 if Mr. Franck will be kind enough to join me.” 
 u Ay,” said the Baron, “ he ’ll sing that equal 
 to Cicero himself.” 
 
 I . had to begin : and, in spite of my best efforts, 
 I became conscious of the hardness and dryness of 
 my performance ; when Amelia, with a feeling 
 and expression to which I had hitherto been an 
 utter stranger, repeated the same strain. But mat- 
 ters mended rapidly as we proceeded. Like the 
 nightingale which, in soft responses, imitates the 
 sweet and lengthened notes of her neighbouring 
 mate, I caught every expression, every feeling of 
 my lovely model : our hearts seemed to melt into 
 each other, our souls swam upon our mutual 
 sounds ; two beings seemed united in one. 
 
 “Bravo!” exclaimed the Baron — “ Bravo!” 
 resounded from the whole of the audience, the mp:i 
 of colours not excepted. The Baron protested, 
 with an oath, that Cornelius Nepos could not have 
 given more expression to the Latin words ; and 
 
 F 
 
50 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK 
 
 that, next to the birthday speech of Baron Fritz, 
 no Latin composition had so much affected him as 
 this duet. He himself now favoured the com- 
 pany with a sample of his vocal powers. Here 
 the guests displayed the full force of the friendship 
 and devotion they bore to their kind host ; for, 
 although the Cornet, full of his antics behind, in- 
 flated the left cheek by the fulcrum of his tongue, 
 and tried by divers wry faces to put the audience 
 out of countenance, the utmost silence reigned 
 until the conclusion of the Aria, when all simul- 
 taneously joined in a roar of applause, and a clap- 
 ping of hands, so tremendous, that the dogs in 
 the yard felt called upon to contribute their mite 
 in praise of their master, by a woeful barking and 
 howling ; to which the poultry, and especially the 
 geese, forthwith added a further tutti of harmo- 
 nious accents of approbation. 
 
 u Your very dogs, Baron, are musical!” ex- 
 claimed the Cornet. u But pray, Baron, how do 
 you contrive to give all this energy of expression, 
 and again this melting softness, to your intona- 
 tion ?” 
 
 “ It is more a gift of nature, my dear Cornet, 
 than any thing else : the flute, to be sure, affords 
 some advantages. But all this is nothing to what 
 I used to do before I lost my two front teeth. 
 (Farther canine intonations below.) — -I’ll have 
 every one of these rascals shot.” 
 
FERDINAND FitANCK. 
 
 51 
 
 14 . 
 
 A CRASH. 
 
 The concerto grosso in the yard, although gra- 
 dually growing fainter, like the roar of cannon 
 and small arms at the close of a battle, lasted long 
 enough to put an end to the vocal concert : a 
 dance was proposed, the Baron brought his flute, 
 and one of the senior gentlemen took the piano- 
 forte. As I was the best dancer in Feldberg, my 
 waltzing, hating perhaps a little of rustic coarse- 
 ness, afforded no cause for harsh criticism. Un- 
 fortunately Miss Waldheim was already engaged 
 with a partner when I bent my steps towards her ; 
 but I received her promise for the next dance. In 
 the hands of another, whom I was already pre- 
 sumptuous enough to consider as my rival, her 
 graceful movements failed to make great impres- 
 sion on me ; I felt even piqued to see her dance so 
 well as she did. 
 
 As ill luck would have it, the next dance was to 
 he a cotillon, a dance which I knew not even by 
 name : a country-dance 1 might probably have 
 ventured, having seen it danced once or twice be- 
 fore. Here again, however, Amelia’s instruc- 
 tions, and the anxious sagacity of the pupil, 
 enabled me to achieve wonders in my eyes ; the 
 figures I executed with geometrical precision, and 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 ILLINOIS LIBRARY 
 
62 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 mindful of her former charge, u to do in all things 
 as she did,” my steps visibly gained grace and 
 lightness : hut to my sorrow I observed that, with 
 every increased exertion, the hiatus valde de- 
 jdendus , the via lactea to the south of my scarlet, 
 gained ground imperceptibly ; an unsightliness 
 which I determined to remedy by a little stooping. 
 But with the angelic form before me, an antelope 
 in graceful swiftness, this prudent resolution, to 
 my cost, was soon forgotten. 
 
 My male companions, as if, in their wickedness 
 perhaps, to excite me to more strenuous exertions, 
 leaped up and down, and sideways and forwards, 
 with surprising spring and agility. In trying to 
 do as well as they, unmindful of the frailty of my 
 attire, one calamitous effort burst the braces with 
 a tremendous crash ; up flew the scarlet waistcoat, 
 down flew its southern neighbour, and out flew 
 the nuptial relic of my good aunt, the lawn hand- 
 kerchief, a floating banner of shame and confusion. 
 Figure to thy imagination, gentle reader, the woe- 
 ful plight, the anguish of disconsolate Ferdinand 
 Franck, exposed with his baker’s apron to the 
 sneers of the Cornet, and the titterings of the 
 whole company. The ladies, including Miss 
 Waldheim, ran out of the room ; the Cornet, the 
 villain ! with hypocritical sympathy, offered his 
 assistance in stopping the breach. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 53 
 
 This was more than my humbled vanity and my 
 sensitive nerves could bear. With the rapidity of 
 lightning I made my exit, leaped down the stairs, 
 crossed the yard — Fritz calling, and all the dogs 
 barking after me. Like a pursued criminal I ran 
 homewards through the long chestnut avenue, 
 until my breath failed me, and I began to be a 
 little sensible of the ridicule of my situation and 
 conduct. 
 
 15. 
 
 THE RESTORATIVE. 
 
 Exhausted, I sat down on one of the mossy 
 stone benches between the trees in the avenue. 
 The stillness of the night, illumed by a cloudless 
 full moon, amidst myriads of glittering stars, 
 while it formed a sad contrast with the harassed 
 feelings of my niind, tended probably to soothe my 
 agitated frame. On reaching for my handker- 
 chief to wipe the cold perspiration from my fore* 
 head, the Baron’s note dropped from my pocket. 
 Its contents, read in the bright moonlight, fully 
 completed the work of restoration : — 
 
 “ My dear Mr. Ferdinand, 
 
 “ I cannot describe to you the pleasure I felt at the 
 beautiful Latin congratulation which you were good 
 enough to pen for Baron Fritz. Its language and senti- 
 ments do credit to your head and heart. Accept the en* 
 
 E 3 
 
U FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 closed trifle as an earnest of my good wishes for yfiur 
 future welfare, to promote which you may ever depend 
 upon the active assistance and friendship of 
 
 “ Yours, &c. 
 
 “ WOLDITZ.” 
 
 The enclosure consisted of a bran-new ducat,* 
 a sum ten times greater than that which at any 
 former time I could call my own. This tangible 
 token of the Baron’s good intentions, together 
 with the kind assurance of his future protection, 
 completely recalled the buoyancy of youthful spi- 
 rits, liable to be easily depressed, hut capable of be- 
 ing as readily revived. I could have felt sufficiently 
 strong to return to the company at the Baron’s ; 
 but, upon mature reflection, a continuation of my 
 route homeward appeared preferable. I resumed 
 my steps cheerfully, building castles in the air 
 with the treasure I possessed. Whatever could 
 singly be procured with the ducat, was collectively 
 incorporated in the catalogue of my personal pro- 
 perty, which thus at first was increased in imagi- 
 nation a hundredfold ; but a simple arithmetical 
 consideration soon afforded the disappointing re- 
 sult, that the acquisition of one article must ex- 
 clude the ninety -nine others in simultaneous con- 
 templation. To select this one became a perplex- 
 ing dilemma, until a chance-lo$k at the hiatus be- 
 low decided the question, by suggesting the para- 
 mount necessity of replacing the scarlet by a 
 
 A gold coin, worth about 10s. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 55 
 
 smart Waistcoat of at least three inches additional 
 ^length, in case I might have to dance another 
 cotillon. 
 
 The scene at home on my relating to uncle and 
 aunt the adventures of the evening, the sympa- 
 thizing distress of the latter, and the stoic calm- 
 ness of the former, shall for once be left to the 
 depictive imagination of my readers. Mrs. Franck 
 fully approved the immediate acquisition of the 
 new article of dress ; but her philosophic spouse 
 voted for delay, inasmuch as, according to Vale- 
 rius Maximus, u Gravia graviorem curam exigunt 
 negotia that is to say, “ Great resolves demand 
 great consideration.” The prize obtained for the 
 Latin oration was therefore carefully put by, until 
 the important question of its appropriation should 
 be finally decided. 
 
 16 . 
 
 BIRTHDAY ODE. 
 
 Baron Fritz, the next morning, called upon 
 me at Mr. Knobelsheimer’s, to condole, as he said, 
 on my last night’s misfortune, and to present me, 
 on the part of his father, with a beautiful old apron 
 of flowered satin from the late Baroness’s ward- 
 robe, which I was to get made into a new waist- 
 coat at the Baron’s expense. I took this opportu- 
 nity to inquire again how the young gentleman 
 had acquitted himself of his oratorical task ; and 
 
S6 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 now, for the first time, received the detailed ac- 
 count of a scene not unworthy of the reader’s 
 attention. 
 
 The Baron’s waking was invariably attended 
 with an obstinate morning cough, accompanied by 
 a variety of sonorous rattles aud gargarizations. 
 These matin rumbles were as invariably re-echoed 
 by a stout barking of his favourite Spitz ; and the 
 barking of Spitz was a signal for Hans, the invalid 
 corporal, to enter with a pair of hussar boots in one 
 hand, and a razor apparatus in the other, with 
 which he forthwith proceeded to shave his master’s 
 beard in bed. 
 
 On the present solemn occasion, instead of Hans, 
 Fritz stepped in, boldly took his stand at the foot 
 of the bed, drew the curtains, bowed respectfully, 
 and spake as follows : 
 
 Carissime pater, patriae ornamentum , inimico - 
 rumque terror !” 
 
 Spitz, the spaniel, wroth probably at this infrac- 
 tion of the regular order of things, had already 
 expressed his disapprobation by some passages of 
 angry half-smothered growlings ; his canine saga- 
 city, moreover, distinguished perhaps sounds alto- 
 gether different from the German idiom : in short, 
 he barked lustily, as in duty bound — the enraged 
 Baron flings the candlestick at the loyal beast, and 
 poor Fritz’s retentive powers, slender at all times,^ 
 are flown at once. In vain he repeats over and 
 
Page 56. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. S7 
 
 over again the above exordium — the sequel obsti- 
 nately remains a non sequitur. 
 
 In this excruciating dilemma, an ordinary youth 
 would have retired with shame and confusion ; but 
 Fritz was a genius. With a presence of mind 
 which has since distinguished his military career, 
 he recollected a Latin rule of grammar — the only 
 one he knew perfectly — thanks to the cane of my 
 uncle ! — it was his rightful property, for he had 
 purchased its acquisition with bruises, and so he 
 was determined to bring it forthwith into practi- 
 cal use. Undauntedly, therefore, he bowed once 
 more and recommenced : 
 
 “ Carissime pater, patriae ornamentum , inimico- 
 rumque terror ! 
 
 u Propria qua marilus iribuuntur , mascula di- 
 cas : ut sunt Divorum ; Mars , Bacchus , Apollo : 
 Virorum ; ut Cato , Virgilius : Fluviorum ; ut Ti - 
 6ns, Orontes : Mensium; ut October: Ventorum ; 
 ut Libs , Notus , Auster . Propria femineum refe - 
 rentia nomina seocum femineo generi tribuuntur: 
 sive Dearum sunt * * * *. Eoccipienda tamen 
 sunt qucedam urbium .” 
 
 The whole of this 66 neat and appropriate 
 speech” being impressively delivered, with suit- 
 able emphasis and vehement energetic gesticula- 
 tion, the Baron’s heart was moved to the quick, 
 and a tear of paternal wonder and delight mean- 
 dered over his gray mustachios. 
 
58 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 u Kiss me, my dear boy !” he exclaimed with a 
 stifled sob ; u this is a delightful surprise — indeed 
 I call it one of the happiest moments of my life — 
 I thank you for all the good wishes you have ex- 
 pressed towards your father’s health and happiness, 
 and no less for the filial promises which this beau- 
 tiful speech holds out. I hope, nay I am sure, 
 you will keep all you have promised. Kiss me 
 again, you sly rogue ; you are quite an orator ! — By 
 G — * — , Julius Caesar, at the battle of Cannae, could 
 not have addressed his legions with more energy ; 
 it puts me in mind of the great Frederic, when he 
 harangued the Prussian guards at the battle of 
 Rosbach. Our regiment was drawn up at a small 
 distance but of this another time ; stop a mo- 
 ment ” 
 
 Here the prince of German hussars arose from 
 his bed, and, in his shirt, went to the bureau to 
 give to his u promising” offspring the reward al- 
 ready alluded to. He inquired next for the writer 
 of this supposititious oration ; and Fritz, for his 
 own credit’s sake, mentioned the author — not of 
 the very grammatical speech actually delivered, 
 but of the composition that was intended to have 
 been spoken, but suffered abortion. 
 
 The information thus obtained from Baron Fritz 
 was any thing but satisfactory to my feelings. My 
 pride was hurt at seeing my first labour thus ship- 
 wrecked ; the high eulogiums I had received from 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 59 
 
 the Baron now sat light upon me, and a serious 
 scruple arose whether I could in conscience retain 
 possession of the ducat presented to me. The 
 case, therefore, was referred to my uncle and aunt 
 at dinner. The latter thought me perfectly crazy 
 in entertaining any scruple at all; but uncle, consi- 
 dering the matter liable to arguments on both sides, 
 promised to give it a few hours’ serious reflection. 
 The question, therefore, was gravely resumed at 
 supper, when he adjudged the ducat to be fairly 
 mine ; for, not to advert to the exposure of Baron 
 Fritz, and the cruel disappointment to the father’s 
 feelings, which must be the inevitable consequences 
 of my returning the money, it was evident that 
 the remuneration had been awarded and intended 
 for that which I had actually performed ; and that 
 the trial of substitution, on the part of the youn- 
 ker, to which I had not been a party, could in no 
 way affect the justice of my claim. Upon these 
 grounds, enforced with a variety of other reason- 
 ing, I was pleased to find that I could, with the 
 best conscience, retain the meed of my Latin 
 scholarship. 
 
 17. 
 
 THE BRAIN-FEVER. 
 
 After the above incidents, some months, 
 which may be set down as a blank in my youth- 
 
60 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 ful biography, passed away pleasantly enough. X 
 continued my medical studies at the doctor’s with 
 assiduity, and without much vexation on his part ; 
 assisted my uncle in his scholastic duties ; and re- 
 ceived many marks of the favour of the Baron, 
 who in vain tried every means to persuade my 
 uncle to send me to the capital, in order to study 
 music in all its branches. Although his mind 
 was not fully made up whether I should exclu- 
 sively devote myself to the medical art, his aver- 
 sion to my becoming a musician or composer was 
 not to be overcome. Besides the reasons already 
 mentioned, he insisted that, according to his 
 oracle the great Lavater, my physiognomy pre- 
 sented no one indication favourable to harmony, 
 nor any feature of that genial enthusiasm which 
 he held to be indispensable in the fine arts to- 
 wards future greatness. 
 
 It was about this time that the craniological 
 system of Dr. Gall began to attract the notice 
 of the learned in Germany. Some articles on 
 the subject occasionally appeared in the u Ham- 
 burgh Correspondent;” and the affinity between 
 the new theory and the physiognomical specula- 
 tions of his idol Lavater had already excited an 
 intense degree of curiosity in the breast of my 
 uncle, when one day he saw (at the Three Crowns) 
 an advertisement in that paper announcing the 
 publication of a book in illustration of Gall’s Doc- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 61 
 
 trine of the Brain, followed by a very favourable 
 report of the booksellers as to the high merit and 
 interest of the work. 
 
 Mr. Franck came home so full of the subject, 
 that, instead of eating his supper quietly, he en- 
 tertained his spouse and me with the great import- 
 ance of the new psychological discovery concern- 
 ing the faculties and functions of the human 
 brain ; and expressed the most poignant regret at 
 the insufficiency of his pecuniary means to pro- 
 cure the valuable book in question. My aunt 
 asked whether he had not books enough in reason 
 to satisfy the wants of a schoolmaster ; and plainly 
 hinted at the utter impossibility of his having 
 read through u all the rubbish” upon which such 
 a deal of money had already been spent, and 
 which after his death would not fetch the amount 
 of a decent burial. 
 
 u You do not understand these matters, my 
 dear Margaret,” replied my uncle calmly : “ the 
 work I am speaking of is altogether an extraordir 
 nary production, and, considering the plates, sur- 
 prisingly cheap. What is three guilders thirty 
 kreutzers,* in comparison to the important know- 
 ledge purchased with it?” 
 
 66 I ’ll tell you, Mr. Franck, what is three 
 
 * A’^out 7s. 
 
 G 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 62 
 
 guilders thirty kreutzers ; it is more than we 
 have in the house at this moment.” 
 
 u True, dear ; but not more than we could 
 command, if we chose. If we were to sell one 
 of those pigs . . . .” 
 
 Here the knife and fork involuntarily dropped 
 from the hands of the horror-struck Mrs. Franck. 
 She looked aghast at her husband, heaved a deep 
 sigh, bit her lips as if her speech were going to 
 fail. But an oral bankruptcy being a misfortune 
 very unlikely to befal her on this side of the 
 grave, she relieved the paroxysm by exclaiming 
 with calm but bitter formality — . 
 
 u Mr. Franck ! if you were to do such a thing, 
 I should think you the last man that wanted a 
 book on brains. What ! sell the pig for a book ? 
 when we are all half-starving — when your poor 
 wife is nearly in rags, ashamed to show herself 
 among her neighbours at church — ( in tears . ) Oh, 
 Nicholas, Nicholas ! you have no more feeling for 
 your wife than for your schoolboys’ skins.” 
 
 Such a pathetic argumentum a posteriorly my 
 good uncle, kind-hearted as he was, even to the 
 brute creation, could not resist. He at once gave 
 up all idea of the acquisition of the fondly-desired 
 work. 
 
 The thought instantly struck me of devoting 
 my ducat to the gratification of this worthy man’s 
 anxious wishes. With inward delight I changed 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 63 
 
 my com, and by the carrier sent an order for the 
 book, with the money, to the capital. 
 
 18. 
 
 APOLLO AND THE MUSES. 
 
 It was the evening before Christmas-eve— 
 such scenes cannot be forgotten-just as my uncle 
 was putting on his wig to attend his evening- 
 school of young girls, and put the last hand to the 
 writing exercises they were to present to their 
 parents before the close of the year, when I en- 
 tered the room with the craniological volume, and 
 requested his acceptance of the new-year’s gift. 
 
 Spare me, ye readers of better feeling- » a de 
 script, on of this bright, this happy moment in my 
 c ec erect career. Let your fancy, let your hearts 
 seize the pencil, and sketch a scene which words 
 cannot portray. 
 
 Even my aunt’s astonishment and vexation “at 
 the folly I had committed,” finally gave way to the 
 impulse of her better nature; my aunt even did 
 justice at last to the motives which had induced 
 me to “ throw away so much money_a sum which, 
 with a very little to it, would have been sufficient 
 to buy her a stuff gown for the winter.” 
 
 As to Mr. Franck, as soon as the varied emo- 
 tions of surprise, delight, gratitude, and affection, 
 iad settled into a sort of repose, so as to allow 
 
6i 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 some scope for curiosity the most eager and in* 
 tense, he again put by his wig, wiped his specta- 
 cles, called for the luxury of a tallow-candle in 
 addition to the ordinary illumination in oil, fixed 
 himself immovably in the old leathern arm-chair, 
 and said, 
 
 u My dear lad, the girls have but just to finish 
 their writing-pieces ; you can see them do it as 
 well, and better than I : only look to that vixen 
 Jenny Weber — dip her pen yourself, she is so apt 
 to make blots. Go over and manage this matter, 
 while I take a little peep at your kind present.” 
 
 Proud of the trust reposed in me, and in- 
 wardly happy and contented with what I had 
 done, I entered the school-room with buoyant 
 spirits, and took the command of the nymphs ; 
 a very Apollo among the Muses, allowing for one 
 supernumerary in this rustic Pierian assemblage. 
 The unexpected appearance of Mr. Ferdinand was 
 cordially greeted, and every nymph promised to 
 take extraordinary pains to do credit to my charge. 
 To stimulate the exertions of the fair votaries of 
 the quill, I, in return, hinted that if they accom- 
 plished their task to my satisfaction, I might be 
 induced to allow a little innocent game, a bit of 
 blind-man’s-buff, by way of breaking up, when the 
 work was done. 
 
 There was magic in this hint. Not a blot sul- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 6.5 
 
 lied the characters of Jenny Weber, or of any of 
 the Pierian Ten : Mary Dickel, my old favourite, 
 wrote like copper-plate ; and the efforts of all were 
 so praiseworthy and successful, that what they 
 had previously done under my uncle admitted of 
 no comparison with their exertions under the au- 
 spices of his nephew. In less than half an hour 
 the tables and benches stood piled upon each 
 other, and Apollo, metamorphosed into the blind 
 son of Venus, cautiously strode, groping with ex- 
 tended arms in chase of the nimble nymphs of Feld- 
 berg. The pursuit, however, soon grew brisker, 
 and a wanton push from one of the Bacchantes 
 impelled the head of their Orpheus with such a 
 momentum against the huge German stove, that, 
 had it not been for the protecting bandage, his 
 fate would have been similar to the deplorable end 
 of the Grecian lyrist. As it was, the contusion 
 on the left temple for some seconds deprived me 
 of all recollection ; and when I opened my eyes for 
 the first time, I beheld Mary, the offender, in a 
 flood of tears, and the rest of her companions 
 anxiously striving to restore animation. The 
 pain was great; but, to calm their fears, I made 
 light of the accident, and the game not only soon 
 resumed its former vivacity, but increased in 
 noise and clamour. My turn came again, and I 
 had just caught, and was saluting Mary Dickel, 
 g3 
 
50 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 when the venerable Mr. Franck, roused from hig 
 craniological speculations by the uproar, entered 
 the school-room. 
 
 At any other time such a scene would have 
 been deemed unpardonable; but the grateful re- 
 collection of the book, and probably his eagerness 
 to return to it, produced but a friendly rebuke on 
 the present occasion. I took care to present to 
 his view the right profile only, lest he might espy 
 the hurt on the left : the pieces were looked over 
 and highly lauded, the nymphs dismissed to their 
 homes, and in compliance with a previous invita- 
 tion I went to sup with Mary’s father, the black- 
 smith, upon new-made sausages and cabbage- 
 sallad, 
 
 19 . 
 
 ORGANIC RESEARCHES. 
 
 On my return, Mrs. Franck, tired of sitting a 
 mute spectator of her husband’s lucubrations, 
 had long retired to solitary rest; for she was a 
 soporescent woman of an evening, when not 
 talked to. Having, through the half-open door, 
 bidden my uncle a transient good night, which, 
 without raising his eyes from the book, he kindly 
 acknowledged by exclaiming, “Wonderful!” I 
 followed the example of my aunt. 
 
 Like a notable housewife, she had taken to bed 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 67 
 
 the keys which would have enabled her husband 
 to enlighten his subject, perhaps, until daylight. 
 The tallow-candle having long ceased its func- 
 tions, and the lamp, instead of dispensing light, 
 beginning to give out a vile smoke, Mr. Franck 
 found himself reluctantly compelled to shut the 
 book, and rejoin his conjugal partner in the dark. 
 
 By this time the cranium of Dr. Gall’s disciple 
 had become so overcharged with craniological no- 
 tions, that, without some vent or other by way of 
 safety-valve, the ferment of the condensed mate- 
 rials might have produced dangerous consequences. 
 On passing my door, which was ajar, and hearing 
 me breathe, the happy thought suddenly struck 
 him of making on the skull of his nephew a prac- 
 tical experiment of the tenets of the German phi- 
 losopher. 
 
 Figure to thyself, gentle reader, the horror I 
 felt at being roused from my first sleep and a 
 sweet dream by the craniological manipulations of 
 a dry bony hand, resembling an anatomical prepa- 
 ration. With a loud scream I started from my 
 bed and seized the tall spectre by the throat. — 
 The words u Nonsense, boy, don’t be frightened !” 
 to my amazement proclaimed the vision to be my 
 uncle. 
 
 My screams had by this time brought to the 
 spot Mrs. Franck and Lisbeth, in their nocturnal 
 draperies. After a brief and rather obscure ex- 
 
<38 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 planation, the former exclaimed, u Why, sure 7 
 you ’re mad Nicholas : the hook has turned his 
 brain already ; it shall be burnt the first thing 
 to-morrow morning.” 
 
 All the answer the calm Mr. Franck made to 
 this threatening invective was, “ The organ of 
 amorousness — the organ of harmony— the organ 
 of murderousness — all in a decisive degree; be- 
 sides a number of organs less distinctly pro- 
 nounced.” — u There are no organs in the room, 
 my dear Nicholas,” replied my aunt, in a sooth- 
 ing tone of intense distress of mind, fully con- 
 vinced of the truth of her husband’s mental aberra- 
 tions. 66 The Lord have mercy upon thee, dear 
 Nick ! thou’rt wandering in thy senses : come to 
 bed, my dear ; come along, and let us pray against 
 the Fiend’s temptations.” 
 
 After a night of more or less agitation to the 
 parties concerned, we sat down to a silent break- 
 fast, until my uncle, in a serious but affectionate 
 tone, addressed me as follows : 
 
 u My dear Ferdinand ! much as I regret the 
 fright which I caused you and your good aunt 
 last night, the anxiety I long felt for your future 
 destinies will sufficiently justify my having seized 
 the first opportunity of ascertaining your mental 
 and moral qualifications, by the test of Dr. Gall’s 
 important discoveries ; the truth of which this first 
 trial, compared with previous observations I made 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 69 
 
 in silence, has confirmed in a surprising manner. 
 
 I had time before you awoke to examine every part 
 of your skull, and the result is briefly this : u You 
 possess ( pointing to the bump I had received in 
 falling against the German stove the night before ), 
 you possess, in a decided degree, the organ of mur- 
 derousness. (Here my aunt heaved a deep sigh, 
 and bit her lips.) Don’t he alarmed, my dear; the 
 lad cannot help the conformation of his skull. It 
 is for craniology to take warning by such hints, 
 and act accordingly. He would make an excellent 
 carcase -butcher, if we were inclined that way. 
 Our wish had hitherto partly been to make him a 
 practitioner. There ’s an end of this at once ; he 
 would kill more than cure. (With this deduction, 
 however erroneous, I was not disposed to quarrel, 
 having had quite enough of surgery and Dr. Kno- 
 belsheimer ; nor was my aunt inclined to any ob- 
 jection.,) This almost unnatural prominence, ( put- 
 ting his finger to the nape of my neck,) I am sorry 
 to say, indicates the organ of amorousness in an 
 extreme state.” 
 
 u Nonsense, Mr. F. ; don’t put wicked ideas into 
 the child’s head.” 
 
 u He can’t help it, my dear. Feel the bump 
 yourself : and, let me tell you, whatever may as 
 yet be the doubts concerning some of the cranial 
 protuberances, this one is indisputably made out ; 
 and, what is more, decisively confirmed by what I 
 
VO 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 saw last night : when I came to the school-room 
 unawares, were you not kissing Mary Dickel, the 
 blacksmith’s daughter ?” 
 
 44 It was all in fun.” ( Here aunt , with a dark 
 frown , nodded her head most significantly. ) 
 
 44 Fun, I dare say it was: but he this as it may* 
 now I tell you of the enemy, it is your part to 
 beware of him. 4 Principiis obsta , sero medicina 
 paratur .’ This organ is so tremendous with you, 
 that, unless you take great care, I fear it will 
 bring you a world of trouble. ( Here every word 
 of my uncle , as I afterwards founds spoke oracular 
 truth. I had often sad occasion to remember his 
 caution r) For the present I am in hopes that, by 
 the steps I am going to propose, any immediate 
 danger will be averted. 
 
 44 Between your eyes and ears,” continued un- 
 cle, 44 I perceived a third very remarkable rise, 
 just here : this, I am happy to tell you, is of a pro- 
 mising description — it is the organ of harmony ; 
 and although I was hitherto ignorant of this pre- 
 disposition of yours, Baron Wolditz, perhaps in- 
 stinctively, (for what does he know of craniology ?) 
 seems to have been fully aware of its existence. 
 He wishes you to be brought up to music ; he has 
 kindly offered his assistance : if your aunt agrees 
 to it, let us follow the guide thus pointed out to 
 us, and avail ourselves of his good intentions. He 
 wishes to send you to the capital to commence 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 71 
 
 your musical career: much as I shall regret the 
 absence of one I s6 dearly love, it is for your good, 
 and so let it be ; and when I consider that this 
 measure will have the additional advantage of se- 
 parating you from Mary Dickel, for whom it 
 seems you have a premature kindness, I feel the 
 more reconciled to the idea of parting with you, 
 my dear boy. The distance is not so great but that 
 we may contrive to meet now and then ; and my 
 legs are not too old to carry me to the capital to 
 see you during the school vacations.” 
 
 20 . 
 
 FAREWELL. 
 
 The plan of my uncle fully coincided with my 
 own wishes ; I expressed my instant consent : aunt 
 too, for a wonder, approved of her husband’s pro- 
 posal ; and Baron Wolditz received with delight 
 the tidings of our united acquiescence in his views 
 concerning my future career. He immediately 
 wrote to a friend in the capital, to effect the neces- 
 sary arrangements ; and an agreement was made 
 with Mr. Bauer, an excellent musician and theo- 
 rist, for my instruction, including board and lodg- 
 ing under his own roof. Another fortnight passed 
 in providing the requisite equipments, in which 
 the minute attentions of Mrs. Franck omitted no- 
 thing within the compass of her scanty means, not 
 
72 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 excepting a few darning-needles and thread, and a 
 pot of her excellent domestic ointment. My uncle’s 
 best razor was the only gift in the power of this 
 excellent man to bestow. 
 
 My trunk, an immense family ark, crammed 
 with worthless lumber, being sent on by the 
 carrier, and an affectionate leave taken of my kind 
 patron, who presented me with a louis-d’or for 
 travelling expenses and pocket-money, the day 
 after Twelfth-night the heavy morning of parting 
 presented itself. I left a house of tears ; and 1 
 well remember the last words of my good uncle, 
 uttered through half-stifled sobs : 
 
 u God in Heaven bless you, my dear Ferdinand, 
 and keep you in the path of virtue ! Farewell, 
 my boy, and mind the bump in the nape !” 
 
 21 . 
 
 FRANCK ABROAD. 
 
 It was a bitter cold January morning when I 
 bade adieu to all that was dear to me in Feldberg — 
 that is to say, in the whole world, for to all be- 
 yond it I was a perfect stranger : the sky was 
 overcast ; the path on the high-road slippery from 
 frost ; for miles not a human being was to be seen ; 
 croaking crows, officiously sweeping the air, seemed 
 to be the only companions of my solitary pilgrimage. 
 These omens might have depressed less buoyant 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 73 
 
 spirits; and if I had had a turn for hatching 
 hidden futurity into present misery, there was 
 wherewith to supply materials. Fortunately that 
 canker of human happiness, sentimentality, was 
 but a minim in the compound of my moral con- 
 stitution ; for Mr. Nicholas Franck, my excellent 
 uncle, had, by innumerable repetitions, deeply im- 
 pressed on me one of his favourite apophthegms— 
 Quid sit futurum eras , fuge queer er e ; or, as he 
 would sometimes say with Ovid — 
 
 Quique dolet citius, quam dolor, ipse cadet. 
 
 The cold, therefore, and the gloomy heavens, and 
 the slippery path, and the cawing crows, were as 
 nothing to me. The heart was warm with ex- 
 pectation, tinged perhaps with ambition ; youth- 
 ful vitality shed a genial glow over my whole 
 frame. I paced on, nothing loath, some dozen 
 miles, singing, whistling, and castle-building ; de- 
 molished a great portion of the cold collation of 
 my aunt’s providing in a cottage by the road-side, 
 and sallied forth again to complete the quantum of 
 this day’s itinerary, until a heavy snow-storm 
 drove me for shelter under the dark branches of a 
 stately forest of firs and pines, through which the 
 road took its direction. 
 
 H 
 
n 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 22 . 
 
 AN ORIENTAL CURIOSITY. 
 
 u Sad time for travel, young Mr. Landsmann /” 
 exclaimed, with a short pipe in his mouth, a sal- 
 low, black-haired, thick-set, little creature, hung 
 upon a shaggy white pony, and muffled up to his 
 nose in an old blue cloak, his legs sweeping the 
 snow from the leafless briars, as he advanced to- 
 wards the protecting cluster of firs I had selected 
 for an asylum, apparently equally approved by 
 him. 
 
 u And where may the young gentleman be 
 going to ?” 
 
 64 To the capital, by to-morrow night, I 
 hope.” 
 
 u Ah ! then we shall be going the same way, 
 and mayhap keep each other company, if it is 
 agreeable.” 
 
 u With all my heart, sir, so I can keep up with 
 your steed, and the weather will let us go on ; I 
 think the snow will be over presently.” 
 
 u Amen ! I wish it were half an hour after the 
 end of it. And what may induce the young gen- 
 tleman to travel to the capital at this severe season, 
 so quite alone ? Going to serve his time in a count- 
 ing-house, I dare say ; or, perhaps, spend a week 
 or two with some friends — eh ?” 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 75 
 
 Direct as these questions were, I felt no incli- 
 nation to satisfy the little man’s curiosity ; for my 
 uncle had strongly recommended to me not to be 
 too communicative with persons I did not know ; 
 and the stranger, besides, had a nervous twang in 
 his accent, and traces of tonsorian negligence 
 about his chin, which strongly savoured of the 
 synagogue. 
 
 Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, far from being offended 
 at my reserve, made up for it by his own commu- 
 nicativeness, perhaps to encourage a return of fa- 
 vours. Such was his name, which he told me was 
 well known in the capital to high and low, as I 
 should find ; adding, that he dealt in every thing, 
 from diamonds and pearls down to little boys’ 
 marbles ; that he had last year only moved into a 
 new house, which cost him fifteen thousand florins 
 before a pane of glass was in a window ; that he 
 was a welcome guest at the tables of counsellors 
 and barons, and gave them fetes in return, the 
 last of which was spoken of in the newspapers, the 
 oysters alone standing him in eighty-seven florins 
 thirty kreutzers ;* that many a great man in S. 
 was on his books, and in arrear for interest, al- 
 though his terms of accommodation were far from 
 being exorbitant, &c. Mr. Aaron Benzheimer 
 
 * 71 . 19s. 1 Jrf. Oysters are a great rarity and delicacy in 
 the interior of Germany. 
 
76 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 likewise informed me, that he was now on his re- 
 turn from Amweil, a market-town where he had 
 hoped to do a little business in the jewel and 
 trinket line for Christmas and New-year’s presents ; 
 but that the poor beast had to carry back nearly as 
 much as he took thither, no trade being stirring : 
 the people had as little money as spirits ; the war 
 had impoverished the country; and if it had not 
 been for a few bargains with some of the French 
 officers quartered there, he should have lost money 
 by the trip. The French officers were charming 
 people — they did not mind money; to be sure, 
 they had it cheap ; u it comes from our own 
 pockets, sir, and so, as a good German patriot, I 
 make a point of getting as much of it back again 
 as I can.” 
 
 Though the snow had abated but little, the 
 day was far spent ; and unless we chose to pass 
 a long night al fresco , or be snowed in, it was 
 high time to brave the storm and resume our jour- 
 ney. Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, moreover, began to 
 show some misgivings about the safety of the road, 
 by divers allusions to robberies and some broad 
 questions as to the extent of my notions of self- 
 defence. My reply, that unless the odds were pal- 
 pably against numbers, I would stand by him to the 
 last, instilled infinite comfort and assurance into 
 the breast of my fellow-traveller, which, like many 
 of the Hebrew tribe, harboured a preponderance 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 77 
 
 of pacific sentiments. He, nevertheless, approved 
 highly of my courage, and seemed evidently to 
 look upon me with regard and complacency. 
 
 But, with the exception of some ten or a 
 dozen wild boars, whose sudden appearance in 
 crossing the road caused a momentary panic, no 
 sinister occurrence retarded our progress. I found 
 no difficulty in keeping pace with the jagged duo- 
 decimo nag of Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, whose spi- 
 rits, divested of alarm, grew more and more affa- 
 ble and facetious ; and with the fall of night we 
 entered the “ Three Kings,” a rustic house of 
 entertainment in Walbach, the village which was 
 to be the place of our night’s abode. ’ 
 
 23. 
 
 THE BARGAIN. 
 
 The few hours’ interval previous to supper 
 were not unprofitably employed by my companion. 
 No sooner had he lodged his portmanteau in his 
 bed-room, and carefully locked its door, than he 
 came down, and invited me to partake of a pint of 
 wine. Among various characteristic peculiarities, 
 preserved in undiminished force by the tribe of Ju- 
 dah since its dispersion from the banks of the Jordan 
 over the whole globe, a restless curiosity and de- 
 sire of knowing every body’s business are not the 
 least conspicuous. With the first glass, therefore, 
 H 3 
 
78 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 which was drunk to the prosperity of my future 
 undertakings, whatever they might be, Mr. Aaron 
 Benzheimer laid formal siege to the fortress of my 
 mental reserve. Having opened his trenches at a 
 distance, and with the skill of a veteran, he soon 
 obtained possession of the outworks of the young 
 tyro in these tactics; a parley ensued, and the 
 place surrendered on a capitulation, by which Mr. 
 Aaron Benzheimer became master of as much in- 
 formation regarding myself as I could from my 
 own knowledge communicate. 
 
 When he heard that I was to be an inmate in 
 the family of Mr. Bauer, and to study music un- 
 der him, he exclaimed, in agreeable surprise, u So 
 so, Mr. Bauer, Mr. Bauer ! a very good man, a 
 very good friend of mine. He owes me twelve 
 hundred florins I lent him three years ago, and 
 has pledged his word to pay the eighteen months’ 
 interest in arrear, as soon as the opera is brought 
 out which he is now writing, and which I and my 
 friends are going to support bravely, I promise 
 you. Ah, Mr. Franck ! you will be with a wor- 
 thy good man, a great genius in musics, take my 
 word for it. You will be well taken care of by 
 Mrs. Bauer too, that you may make sure of ; you 
 will find her a kind and sympathizing soul,” added 
 he, with a knowing grin. 
 
 “ I beg, sir, you will speak with respect.” 
 
 u And so I do, my dear young gentleman : what 
 I was saying was far from being meant as a re- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 79 
 
 flection. Mrs. Bauer is a worthy, an excellent 
 lady ; she pays me punctually for the little lace 
 and cambric, and such like articles, she has of me ; 
 and a good customer she is, for she is particularly 
 neat and tasty in her dress. Talking of dress, ex- 
 cuse me, Mr. Franck, if I am rude — but this coat 
 and waistcoat of yours will be stared at in the 
 capital. We are mighty fashionable there.” 
 
 “ So it seems,” (looking at his old brown great 
 coat.) 
 
 “ Never mind me ! I have made my way in the 
 world, and you are but just entering upon yours. 
 A man of my age and property may go in rags— 
 the world knows he is able to buy better ; but a 
 young gentleman of your figure ought to set off 
 the gifts of nature to the best advantage. Allow 
 me to cut you as fine a bit of genuine blue Ver- 
 viers ” 
 
 Although I successfully parried this attack of 
 the persevering man of sales, my youthful inex- 
 perience a few minutes afterwards yielded to ano- 
 ther assault in a different quarter. Mr. Aaron 
 Benzheimer’s stomach going probably a little faster 
 than mean time, he began expostulating with the 
 host about the delay of the promised supper, and 
 insisted that it was beyond the appointed hour. 
 The host met this reflection on the regularity of 
 his domestic arrangements by pointing to an old 
 wooden Dutch clock, and pledging his word, that 
 as soon as the cuckoo should vociferate his minor 
 
80 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 third seven times, the craving appetite of his 
 guest should have full and ample satisfaction; 
 and the co-operation, moreover, of two students, 
 whose blistered feet had since yesterday prevented 
 them from pursuing their pedestrian progress to- 
 wards the university. Hereupon the great Mr. 
 Benzheimer ostentatiously drew from his fob a 
 gold repeater, and holding it to the ear of mine 
 host, asked him whether he meant to pitch the in- 
 fallibility of his Black Forest* mechanism against 
 a masterpiece of Breguet’s ? A dispute naturally 
 arose as to true time, to settle which I was re- 
 quested to look at my watch : I modestly replied 
 that I had none. 
 
 u No watch, my young friend ! dear, dear ! No 
 watch ! Go to the capital without a watch ! Be a 
 musician without time ! X sell you one, Mr. Franck 
 — an excellent work, for little or no money, be- 
 cause you are a friend.” I protested in vain that 
 I wanted none, and had no money to buy any. 
 Mr. Benzheimer forthwith took a candle to go up 
 to his bed-room, and returned with a sightly sil- 
 ver watch. 
 
 u There, sir ! this here watch cost me twenty 
 guilders, because I had it a bargain ; I am up to 
 these kind of things. You shall have it for twenty- 
 
 * The Black Forest is a district of' Germany famed for the 
 manufacture of what in this country are termed Dutch 
 clocks. — Editor . 
 
\ 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 81 
 
 two; just ten per cent — I am satisfied with a 
 small profit. Look at the works — just let me wind 
 it up.” 
 
 “ I do not want it, because I have no money at 
 present to pay for it.” 
 
 “ No money, my dear Mr. Franck ! I want no 
 money. You shall pay me when it suits you, in a 
 twelvemonth — in two years — by instalments — just 
 as you please ; and if you don’t like it, you bring 
 it back to me, and no harm is done. That ’s the 
 way I deal with gentlemen — that ’s the way I have 
 got on in the world. I trust the world, and the 
 world trusts me. Some do not pay, but the most 
 part do when they are able. To be sure, I do not 
 trust every one; but I trust you, Mr. Franck: and 
 why do I trust you ? Because you have an open, 
 honest face : I know something of fissinomy. Ex- 
 cuse me, yours is not an every-day countenance ; 
 your eyes look beyond what is before you. You 
 will be a favourite with the ladies, there’s no 
 doubt,” — (Mr. Benzheimer had not seen the fatal 
 bump ) — , u but I ’m much mistaken, too, if you 
 will ever be a musician. You will be a great man, 
 I say, and a good customer of mine, I hope.” 
 
 It was a thoughtless, perhaps an immoral action, 
 to yield to such Hebrew eloquence ; I accepted the 
 watch upon these vague conditions, and for a short 
 time lost a portion of that pure peace of mind, with 
 which, not twelve hours ago, I had left my uncle’s 
 roof at Feldberg. 
 
82 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 24 . 
 
 PETIT SOUPER. 
 
 Soon after this negotiation between the con- 
 tracting parties, we perceived, to our great joy, the 
 beginning of a commencement for laying the sup- 
 per-cloth — an operation in German inns performed 
 in slow successive gradation, conformable to the se- 
 date character of the nation, which, in all its trans- 
 actions, great or small, from the deliberations of 
 its National Diet to the driving of its postillions, 
 seems religiously to adhere to the adage — Festina 
 lente. The table being wiped of its swipes, a con- 
 siderable interval was allowed for evaporation and 
 desiccation, before the second act of spreading the 
 cloth was deemed seasonable. After a good while, 
 the salt-cellars and mustard-pots found their way ; 
 along pause again ensued before the knives and 
 forks made their appearance ; in short, not one 
 distinct article of the ccenacular materiel came in 
 company with the other, but in measured succes- 
 sion ; thereby wisely keeping expectation and sto- 
 mach an a stretch until the very development of 
 the quite dramatic catastrophe. These dead stops 
 would have proved infinitely tantalizing, had they 
 not, like the intervals between scenic representa- 
 tions, been relieved by a little music proceeding 
 from the kitchen, and consisting, not in a smart 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 83 
 
 minuet of Haydn, or a lively presto of Pleyel, but 
 a whizzing of hot butter in frying-pans, chopping 
 of sweet herbs on a board in the manner of a dul- 
 cimer, swabbing of beat-up eggs in basins for sauce, 
 and winding-up of the roasting-jack. However 
 grateful this harmony sounded to my ears, accom- 
 panied as it was by occasional savoury zephyrs 
 whenever the door opened into the blazing wind- 
 ward kitchen, the thought of the pecuniary value 
 of such preparation, coupled with the impotency of 
 my purse, created some slight alarm, which I was 
 candid enough just delicately to hint to my fellow- 
 traveller ; but Mr. Aaron Benzheimer allayed my 
 apprehensions, by assuring me, that the host was a 
 right honest and fair-dealing publican ; that the 
 preparations were chiefly for his sake, as he had 
 patronized the house these twenty years ; and that 
 I should find the reckoning wonderfully moderate. 
 
 The two students now descended to join us — 
 two walking volcanoes; one a tall youth, with a 
 huge pipe hanging from the left corner of his 
 mouth, his thumb stuck between the leaves of a 
 book, and so deeply immersed in thought, that 
 a very neutral nod of salutation was all that his 
 abstractions could afford, by way of welcome, for 
 his fellow-guests : the other, a duodecimo figure 
 of pert aspect, while quaffing and puffing the 
 smoke, greeted us with more formality, but with 
 an air of superciliousness, which betrayed the in- 
 
84 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 ward consciousness of great acquirements and 
 mental superiority — characteristics pretty general 
 among the German sons of the Muses. 
 
 Mr. Aaron Benzheimer was too much a man of 
 the world to resent such uncourteousness ; on the 
 contrary, he rose from his seat, and with Oriental 
 good-breeding gave out a graceful salam aleicum 
 in Judaic German. His courtesy and disinterest- 
 edness went even so far as to proffer to these inci- 
 pient sages his services in any article they might 
 stand in need of. 
 
 “ The only article we want at present,” replied 
 the little Elzevir, u is money, having spent all our 
 cash in a philosophical tour during the Christmas 
 vacation. Money is all we want.” 
 
 “ Ha!” said Mr. B. “ that may be found too, 
 upon good security.” 
 
 “ Our word of honour.” 
 
 “ Undeniable security in any thing but busi- 
 ness. Nevertheless ” 
 
 Here the treaty was interrupted by the arrival 
 of a mighty tureen of rice-hroth, of delicious 
 odour. According to German custom, the host, 
 with a very formal bow, seated himself at the 
 head of the table ; and the place at his right was 
 soon afterwards well filled by his better half — bet- 
 ter double, I should say; for, to judge from her 
 plump and adipose arms, deeply purpled by her 
 recent arduous and ardent culinary functions, if 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 85 
 
 ever she wore the breeches, they could never be 
 those of her spare spouse. 
 
 The viands which now presented themselves 
 were various, good, and plentiful. Nevertheless 
 an objection was started, in limine , by the pocket 
 edition of human wisdom, who asked the host 
 44 whether there were to be no sausages, black- 
 puddings, or other porcine condiments ; two large 
 pigs having been executed but yesterday under his 
 windows, and a perpetuum mobile of hacking and 
 chopping having existed in the kitchen ever since 
 five o’clock this morning.” 
 
 The host, although rendered somewhat serious 
 by the previous information of pecuniary deficits, 
 bowed respectfully, expressing a humble persua- 
 sion that the bill of fare, such as it was, would 
 give satisfaction. 
 
 44 What!” exclaimed the epitome of academical 
 wisdom, 44 disturbed from my sleep by hacking 
 and chopping three hours before daylight ; the 
 whole house and my nostrils saturated all day 
 long with effluvia of thyme, coriander, and marjo- 
 ram ; my very clothes impregnated for a week to 
 come with a compound of sausage odours; — and 
 not to have an indemnity for such suffering by 
 a taste ! May thunder and lightning strike me, if 
 the 44 Three Kings ” is not worse than Tartarus 
 itself, and the punishments of Tantalus ! What 
 does all this mean ?” 
 
86 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 The host was utterly confounded by such 
 strong and hostile academical language. He had 
 at all times a great aversion to any thing in the 
 shape of high words, even if they proceeded from 
 what was most dear to him — his better double. I 
 thought it very hard, that, after such praiseworthy 
 exertions on the part of the latter to content al- 
 most an epicure, he should be requited with abuse 
 by the men of science, whose acknowledged in- 
 solvency rendered it improbable that he would be 
 remunerated in any other manner ; and I was just 
 on the point of interfering, when Mr. Aaron Ben- 
 zheimer, with a generous sincerity which raised 
 him greatly in my estimation, observed, that being 
 of the Hebrew persuasion, and a constant friend 
 and frequenter of the house, he had reason to be- 
 lieve, that, without even a hint on his part, the 
 host, from a feeling of delicacy, had excluded the 
 dainties in question, — a circumstance which he re- 
 gretted exceedingly, as the Mosaic law certainly 
 did not prohibit the sight or smell of them. In- 
 deed, he did not know whether, on a pinch, he 
 might not, with a safe conscience, even taste a bit 
 of clean country pork ; the prohibition of Moses 
 being, according to a learned Rabbi of Strasburg, 
 directed against the flesh of the Egyptian swine — 
 an uncleanly animal that fed in the mud of the 
 Ganges (?) and drank the pestilential waters of 
 the Dead Sea. “ The Judaic nation of the pre- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 87 
 
 sent day, gentlemen,” lie added, with much com- 
 placency, 66 like the rest of the world, is a very dif- 
 ferent people from what it was two hundred years 
 ago. Jography, mattomatics, gastronomy, poly- 
 gamy, and every other science, are as much culti- 
 vated among us as among the Christians. My 
 Esther, gentlemen, will tell you every town and 
 river in the moon, as readily as she could name 
 the numerous articles her father deals in.” 
 
 This candid apology of Mr. Aaron Benzheimer’s 
 was lost on the rude minds of the students ; they 
 laughed in his face, and grumbled and muttered all 
 the while they were eating, although they ate vo- 
 raciously of all that was set before them. Much of 
 their conversation took place in miserable Latin, 
 so that my fellow-traveller was spared the vexa- 
 tion of hearing their direct abuse of him ; although 
 he had to bear many a sneer, which made me 
 ashamed of their conduct as Christians ; and I 
 was just watching for a reflection sufficiently di- 
 rect to warrant notice, when they suddenly broke 
 up from table, the little fellow muttering to his 
 companion something in Latin, expressive of a 
 determination towards mischief. 
 
 Overwhelmed by an unconquerable sleepiness, 
 I too, some time afterwards, left my travelling- 
 companion in converse upon business with the 
 host, and hastened to my chamber, No. 5 : that of 
 Mr. Benzheimer being No. 4 ; and the students, 
 
88 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 as I passed No. 3, being heard carousing, or u com- 
 mercing,” as they call it, in beer, tobacco, and 
 vulgar song. 
 
 25. 
 
 A BATTLE SCENE. 
 
 I could not have enjoyed many minutes of 
 my first sleep, before it was disturbed by a tremen- 
 dous knocking at the door. 66 Mister Franck ! 
 Mister Franck !” exclaimed Mr. Benzheimer from 
 without, in a fearfully nervous Jewish accent, “ do 
 come and help ! — get up directly !” 
 
 Half asleep, I jumped out of bed ; and making 
 sure of some foul attack of midnight assassins on 
 his treasure, or of an alarm of fire, I seized my 
 knotty staff and sallied forth, without waiting to 
 put on my clothes. 
 
 u Come with me, my dear Mister Franck, and 
 look at my bed,” was all that the agitated feelings 
 of my companion allowed him to utter. The two 
 students, too, apparently roused by his clamour, 
 met us in the passage with an air of participation. 
 We all entered the room. I examined the bed, 
 and there found a live pig tied up in a bag ! 
 
 Indignant at the insult offered to the religion of 
 my fellow-traveller, and suspecting its authors, 
 I loudly proclaimed the person capable of such 
 an action a scoundrel, whoever he might be, with- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 89 
 
 out receiving all answer from any of the parties, 
 whose number had by this time been augmented 
 by two or three of the servants. The perpetrators, 
 Mr. Benzheimer observed, must have come through 
 the window, as his door was locked, and the case- 
 ment wide open. At that moment the ostler es- 
 pied the bag from which the poor animal had 
 been liberated, and declared that not above an 
 hour ago he had been asked for and had given it 
 to “ that” little gentleman, pointing to the stu- 
 dent; and the pig was one of his master’s litter, 
 but how the gentleman got it he could not tell. 
 
 “You then, sir,” exclaimed I, u are the owner 
 of the epithet 1 had intended for you in anticipa- 
 tion and taking hold of the door, showed him 
 where I wished him to go. But the little man of 
 science preferred applying a box on my ear, ac- 
 companied by a challenge to meet him, cut or 
 thrust, in single combat. For my part, I felt a 
 predilection for settling matters on the spot, and 
 began laying my rustic white-thorn lustily over 
 his back. His tall companion, who might have 
 had no hand in the mischief, had hitherto re- 
 mained a passive spectator ; but when he saw his 
 friend assailed, he conceived himself in duty bound 
 to come to his aid with one of the massy oaken 
 chairs. The balance of hard blow's now began to 
 be sorely in my favour, and there was every pro- 
 spect of an immediate necessity of yielding the 
 i 3 
 
90 
 
 FE11DINAND FKANCK. 
 
 field to superior numbers, unless supported by in- 
 stant reinforcement. 
 
 Hitherto Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, with Hebrew 
 pacificness, had valiantly exerted himself in heart- 
 rending entreaties and supplications to restore 
 peace. In this respect he might be compared to 
 some of the nations of southern climes, whose 
 doubtful valour unfits them to act as principals in 
 the field, except when the back is to be turned 
 to the enemy, on which occasion their energy to 
 be out of harm’s way is surprising; but when 
 united in warfare with a nation of true tramon- 
 tane mettle, ready to stand the brunt and the 
 first hard blows, then, and then only, a sort of se- 
 condary courage will often animate the breasts of 
 the former, and move them on, as spaniels follow 
 mastiffs, to flock in shoals after their brave com- 
 panions in arms, and share in the triumph. 
 
 Thus, when the man of sales and per-centages 
 beheld me in fierce and fearful combat, a latent 
 minim of the blood of Joshua and Saul, concretely 
 sojourning in his organization, seemed to liquefy 
 like the blood of St. Januarius, and forthwith to 
 communicate its vital energy to the whole 94 oz. 
 5 dr. pervading his otherwise pacific frame. In an 
 instant he became a very David before the Phi- 
 listines, and rushed furiously with his fists upon 
 the tall Goliah, whose spun-out dimensions soon 
 succumbed under the blows of the thick -set Mac- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 91 
 
 cabee. Victory now became a mere plaything — a 
 social game. One of the alumni lay groaning on 
 the floor; and the tall subject, on the point of 
 being strangled by the unrelenting grasp of He- 
 brew muscle, criqd for quarter. But Judaic fury, 
 when once roused, is unquenchable ; the philo- 
 sophic youth would in another minute or two 
 have breathed his last, had the host not made his 
 appearance, separated the combatants, and lodged 
 the two students, sadly mauled as they were, in 
 their own dormitory, No. 3, where we left them 
 vowing the vengeance of their literary fraternity 
 against all the tribe of Israel, the host, and the 
 whole house. 
 
 On a cool inspection, the casualties in this action 
 were found to consist in a severe contusion over 
 my left eye, at which Mr. Aaron Benzheimer tes- 
 tified the most poignant grief — the hurt having 
 been inflicted in his cause. He shook me cordially 
 by the hand, expressed his admiration of my va- 
 lour, together with his conviction that I was des- 
 tined to act an important part in mundane affairs. 
 u Music is out of the question, my brave young 
 friend ; you will be a great man, a very great man, 
 take my word for it. And what do you think of 
 my way of fighting, sir ? how did I do the thing, 
 eh ?” I naturally did justice to my friend’s 
 prowess ; we praised each other, and pleased each 
 other, and then retired to our respective rooms. 
 
92 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 No sooner had I risen on the following morn- 
 ing, after a sound sleep, than my fellow-traveller 
 entered the room with the surgeon of the place 
 to look at my eye, for which he dispensed the 
 proper lotion. When I demanded my bill of the 
 host, he informed me that I had nothing to pay, 
 as Mr. Benzheimer had settled every thing. But 
 this is not all : when we were ready to start on 
 our journey, the latter called to me — u Here is 
 a paper of yours, Mr. Franck.” Its contents 
 were — 
 
 “ Received of Mr. Franck the sum of twenty- 
 
 two guilders, for a silver watch sold him. 
 
 “ AARON BENZHEIMER.” 
 
 All my expostulations were fruitless. “ If I have 
 not received the actual sum, Mister Franck, I 
 have received infinitely more than its value in the 
 gratification of meeting with a young man of such 
 honourable feeling and noble courage as yours. 
 Courage, Mister Frank, is every thing with me. 
 For this, and for your just principles, I shall al- 
 ways esteem you, my young friend ; and were 
 you of our persuasion, the hand of my Esther 
 should be at your service. I can give her thirty 
 thousand florins, and not be much the poorer for 
 
 it. Her pearl necklace and ear-rings ” 
 
 u Her hand, sir ; — but her heart ?” 
 
 “ The heart follows the hand, if the husband 
 behaves as he ought. Mrs. Benzheimer hated me 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 93 
 
 when we first married. When we paid our wed- 
 ding visits, she walked on one side of the street, 
 and I on the other. Seventeen days, sir, — 
 But no matter — I found the way to please her at 
 last, and to this day we have lived in the most 
 perfect harmony.” 
 
 26 . 
 
 THE LAND OF PROMISE. 
 
 My friend and I journeyed this day towards 
 the capital, alternately bestriding the white pony. 
 His acquaintance, a pure matter of accident as it 
 was, proved subsequently and on more than one 
 occasion eminently useful to me. There was a 
 strange apparent contradiction in this man’s 
 character : generous and even lavish on particular 
 occasions, he would miss no opportunity of driving 
 a bargain; and his own brother was not exempt 
 from the exaction of the regular per-centage which 
 the science of profit and loss, in which he was a 
 very adept, seemed to have made a law and a 
 matter of duty to him. But this very gain he 
 would, perhaps, the next moment, appropriate to 
 acts of the most disinterested charity, even to 
 Christians. 
 
 The Jewish character, although this people 
 lives in the midst of us, is, I am convinced, far 
 from being properly understood. Our judgment 
 
94 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 is too often formed from the dregs of a nation 
 which we oppress and debase, and, because they 
 are debased, despise. We forget that it is to 
 them we owe the most sublime notions of the 
 Divine Being — a circumstance which alone ought 
 to excite, if not respect, at least kindness and 
 good-will towards them ; not to advert to the 
 constancy with which, in spite of oppression and 
 persecution on all sides, they have adhered to 
 their primitive pure faith, from which our own 
 has emanated. 
 
 A full view of the distant capital burst on my 
 sight on reaching the summit of an eminence, and 
 left an indelible impression on my mind. The 
 Gothic cathedral, with its lofty steeple and at- 
 tendant spires ; other steeples, domes, and towers, 
 of varied height and form, projecting at irregular 
 intervals ; the grand-ducal palace, reflecting from 
 every window the parting rays of a crimson win- 
 ter’s sun through a misty gray atmosphere, — all 
 these rising from behind a continued band of ram- 
 part, with a protruding old bastion here and there ; 
 gates sending endless avenues of trees in diverging 
 lines into the country ; the surrounding plain, in- 
 terspersed with the clumps of little parks and 
 pleasure-gardens, diminutive palaces, and country 
 houses ; — all these objects, however deprived of the 
 charms of foliage and verdure, filled the simple 
 youthful mind with delight and wonder. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 95 
 
 At the distance of about two miles from the 
 capital, my friend proposed to enter a smart house 
 of entertainment and dancing for Sunday visitors, 
 not so much to put the landlord in mind of 
 his promise to discharge the interest of a loan 
 long due, as to await the setting-in of night, more 
 congenial to my attire, and to set off my person, 
 such as it was arrayed, by means of a little 
 brushing and ablution ; observing, that a young 
 man ought to be very particular as to first im- 
 pressions, which frequently had the greatest in- 
 fluence on his future career. My eye, besides, 
 which, in its progress through all the colours of 
 the rainbow, had arrived at an interesting verd- 
 antique tint, would look less remarkable by candle- 
 light. 
 
 The landlord’s excuses, accompanied with a 
 glass of excellent wine, were accepted: the war, 
 too, had wofully ruined his trade ; not above six 
 Sundays’ dancing all the season — and what dan- 
 cing ! little or nothing spent : where people called 
 for rack-punch and champagne, and chicken and 
 tarts, bread and cheese and swipes were now the 
 order of the day. 
 
 Refreshed within and renovated without, we re- 
 sumed our journey. The noble triple avenue of 
 linden-trees, with lamps stretching through an im- 
 measurable perspective, carriages going and com- 
 ing with high-bred coursers, officers and beaux 
 
96 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 gallopping towards the town ; two or three splendid 
 sledges drawn by superbly caparisoned steeds, pre- 
 ceded by outriders with torches ; a confused noise 
 of distant metropolitan activity, — all I saw and 
 heard, augmented my wonder and expectation, 
 until the conclusion of a close and minute interro- 
 gatory by a sergeant at the city gate enabled us to 
 proceed to the house of Mr. Bauer, my musical 
 Mentor, where Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, with a 
 cordial shake of the hand, gave me a general, and 
 as I afterwards found a sincere, invitation to his 
 house and table. 
 
 27 - 
 
 FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 
 
 “ Master is just gone to rehearsal,” mumbled, 
 through a toothless mouthpiece, the shrill squeak- 
 ing nasal voice of a misprint of nature, edited 
 some fifty years back, which might have sat to a 
 sculptor for a laid ideal to be honoured with a 
 place in Prince Biscari’s museum of monstrosi- 
 ties in Sicily. (First impressions with a ven- 
 geance !) 
 
 u Your mistress ?” 
 
 “ Going to the rehearsal too, presently — dress- 
 ing in her room — can’t see her now.” 
 
 u See her, by all means !” exclaimed, in a mel- 
 low laughing tone, an invisible voice precisely the 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 97 
 
 reverse of Miss Barbara’s vocal apparatus. 44 Walk 
 up, Mr. Franck, if you’ll excuse my neglige .” 
 (First impressions, Mr. Aaron Benzheimer ! !) 
 
 Mrs. Bauer’s reception was superlatively cor- 
 dial : a hearty treble kiss * * *, with a thousand 
 apologies for receiving me half-dressed, involun- 
 tarily directed my hand to the bump in the nape. 
 
 44 The students, I hope, have not wounded your 
 head behind too, Mr. Franck ?” 
 
 44 The students, madam ?” 
 
 44 Yes, Mr. Franck ; the students whom you 
 fought so bravely last night. Why, you seem 
 quite thunderstruck at my knowing your feats. 
 Oh ! I could tell you some other matters concern- 
 ing you, that my little familiar has communicated ; 
 but I am rather in a hurry : another time will do. 
 I expect a friend of my husband’s to go with me 
 to the dress rehearsal. It is Aocur. You might 
 accompany us : but no — you are tired, I dare say, 
 and you could not well go as you are. We shall 
 be back in a couple of hours. There are books be- 
 low, and a piano, to pass the time ; and there is Bar- 
 bel (Barbara), my beauty, I venture to trust with 
 you. She will tell you all the news of the town. 
 Mind, she loves scandal : if you believe one quar. 
 ter of what she says, you ’ll be choked with lies.” 
 
 ( Enter Barbara .) 44 Mr. Eisner is below.” 
 
 We descended. I was introduced to the gentle- 
 
 K 
 
98 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 man, who soon departed with Mrs. Bauer, and I 
 was left to recover from my astonishment at this 
 first short interview. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer’s uncommon affability, her sans 
 gene , overwhelmed my rustic intellects; and her 
 knowledge of the adventure at the inn (most na- 
 turally explained afterwards) threw over this meet- 
 ing an air of mysteriousness which completely be- 
 wildered my senses. 
 
 My cogitations were relieved by the appearance 
 of Barbel with some tea, which her mistress had 
 ordered to be prepared for me. Brimful of pro- 
 vincial civilities, I addressed her u Miss Barba- 
 ra,” and shook hands with the misprint. Whe- 
 ther it was this act of condescension ; or that, like 
 low minds, she measured her attentions to persons 
 by the scale of treatment they received from her 
 superiors ; or that she looked upon me merely as a 
 sink to receive the offal of scandal, which her or- 
 ganization bred too fast not to welcome every 
 opportunity for vent, especially that of a new- 
 comer not yet forestalled or saturated ; — be the rea- 
 sons what they might, Miss Barbel now appeared 
 quite another woman. It was in vain to beg it as 
 a favour that she would keep her information re- 
 garding the house to herself : there she stood, 
 right opposite to me, with her bony arms ele- 
 gantly hidden under her apron, immovable as 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 99 
 
 Lot’s wife in my uncle’s great Bible, excepting 
 her organ of speech, from which venom cascaded 
 in streams abundant and uninterrupted. 
 
 Happily for me, one of her pots in the kitchen, 
 seemingly jealous, and willing to compete with the 
 overflowings of her tongue, required her sudden 
 assistance. 
 
 On going to the piano-forte, I found it wretch- 
 edly out of tune, as is frequently the case with the 
 instruments of professional men ; whether in con- 
 firmation of the old saying that u shoemakers’ 
 children are worst shod,” or that perhaps the ear 
 of great musicians may have reached a degree 
 of perfection which enables them to fancy the 
 most false sounds of a pitch precisely correct — like 
 the Hottentots at the Cape, who, caring little 
 whether a gun be true or not, shoot as well with 
 the one as with the other, after having ascertained 
 the quantum of deviation. 
 
 Having nothing better to do, I sat down to 
 tune the instrument, after the approved method 
 of my uncle, Mr. Nicholas Franck. The remain- 
 der of the time the chronique scandaleuse ambu - 
 lante took care to fill up by sundry appendices of 
 information explanatory of her previous opening 
 speech ; all which she delivered in detached but 
 considerable portions, going in and out, laying the 
 cloth, until the return of her u excellent master,” 
 
100 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 as she called him, with his lively spouse, accom- 
 panied by the tenor-singer of the opera establish- 
 ment. 
 
 28 . 
 
 THE REHEARSAL. 
 
 Mr. Bauer, my future master, received me 
 with a kindness, the sincerity of which could 
 not be mistaken. He was a little man, with a 
 large head, vivid eyes, and a constant smile of 
 bonhomie upon his countenance. But more of 
 his character hereafter. 
 
 That he loved good eating and drinking, the 
 supper and his comments upon it, as well as the 
 great relish with which he enjoyed it, sufficiently 
 testified. Nothing was talked of but the rehearsal, 
 and the anticipation of to-morrow’s representation. 
 The tenor swore that if they did not alter the 
 turban, and give him a new pair of morocco 
 slippers, he would not set foot upon the stage. 
 He complimented Mr. Bauer on his training of 
 the choruses, u which were no way inferior to 
 those of Berlin.” Mr. Bauer concurred in their 
 praise, and would give a louis out of his own 
 pocket if they did half as well to-morrow: u but,” 
 added he, 46 you will see what it is when the 
 house is full; it is as if an evil spirit had got 
 into them, especially the girls, who, instead of 
 minding their time and me, promenade their 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 101 
 
 ogles over the pit and boxes, grin and chuckle at 
 the officers and clerks : and, as a proof of what I 
 tell you, there is Miss P — , whom I purpose- 
 
 ly engaged because she is blind; she absolutely 
 keeps the rest together. God forgive me ! I wish 
 they were all blind ! — Now I think on it, my dear 
 Helmont, there ’s one thing I wish to suggest : 
 when you see the palace on fire, a scene which you 
 do so exquisitely, a little more agitation in the tem- 
 po, beginning sotto voce , and gradually increasing, 
 would be an infinite improvement, in my opinion 
 — in this way ” 
 
 Here Mr. Bauer, with his mouth full, stepped to 
 the piano, and, finding it in better tune than 
 usual, prognosticated a thaw; when Barbel, with a 
 burst of laughter, informed him of the real cause. 
 
 “ Bravo ! Mr. Franck — Ferdinand we may as 
 
 well call you, as you are one of the family Let ’s 
 
 see the wolf! — Capital! Come, there’s work cut 
 out for you to begin with. A dozen instruments 
 in town will claim your services to-morrow ; that ’s 
 a dozen guilders in my pocket, and you shall have 
 half of it for pocket-money. A good ear at all 
 events, and that’s half the battle.” 
 
 The effects of my journey having for some time 
 manifested themselves by an unconquerable drow- 
 siness, Mrs. Bauer very kindly showed me to my 
 room, a neat airy garret, in which I found my 
 immense trunk safely lodged. u We had some 
 K 3 
 
102 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 trouble,” said Mrs. B. “ to get this monster here ; 
 it wants but four wheels to make a commodious 
 Diligence. What a wardrobe you must have ! W e 
 shall look at it to-morrow. Good night ! Pleasant 
 dreams to you !” 
 
 29 . 
 
 CONNUBIAL HAPPINESS. 
 
 As the characters of Mr. and Mrs. Bauer had a 
 considerable share in my future destinies, it may 
 be desirable to steal a march upon time, and depict 
 them such as subsequent observations and experi- 
 ence exhibited them to me. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer might have arrived at the age of 
 twenty-eight — a recurring decimal in female chro- 
 nology — a stage of life which, although carrying 
 an impression somewhat broad and mature of 
 younger charms, not only generally exhibits them 
 without absolute defalcation, but often communi- 
 cates the zest of complete development and matu- 
 rity, enhanced by ripened mental powers and per- 
 fected experience. Mrs. Bauer certainly treated 
 her husband with unvaried attention, kindness, 
 and, I think I may add, affection. Fully aware of 
 the value he placed in the pleasures of the table, 
 she did not solely depend upon the attainments of 
 Barbel in culinary science, the respectability of 
 which alone secured her stay in the family against 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 103 
 
 all the drawbacks of numerous physical and moral 
 imperfections. Mrs. Bauer lost no opportunity in 
 gaining, herself, every possible knowledge, written 
 as well as traditional, for the confection of new sa- 
 voury dishes for her husband’s gratification. Not 
 only did she devote many an hour to intense study 
 in the Cuisinier Bourgeois , but two or three great 
 dinners which Mr. B. was in the habit of giving to 
 his friends annually — the highest mark of atten- 
 tion which in his opinion could be conferred — en- 
 abled her to collect from professional men - cooks 
 employed on those occasions a great and valuable 
 accession of knowledge in the gastronomic art.* 
 
 To Mr. Bauer’s predilection for a game at cards 
 she also had the good sense to adapt herself, so far as 
 to be able, in case of need, to take a hand at whist. 
 This, however, she evidently did against her incli- 
 nation, merely to please him, and to prevent his 
 going to the Cassino, where he generally lost his 
 money : for, as Mrs. Bauer was no adept at the 
 game, her play occasionally led to rebukes and ex- 
 postulations, such as u trumping Mr. B.’s good 
 cards, bottling up ^er trumps,” &c. which, how- 
 ever gentle, she was desirous of avoiding, as the 
 only cause — she truly observed- — of any differences 
 in their otherwise happy union. 
 
104 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 30 . 
 
 MUSICAL LECTURE. 
 
 At breakfast, next morning, I found in Mr. 
 Bauer the same affability and good-humour which 
 had characterized him at first sight. In fact, he 
 was ever cheerful and gay, except when he spoke 
 upon music. Not that even then he appeared stern 
 or morose ; but the elevated idea which he enter- 
 tained of his art, its aim and powers, fired his whole 
 being with enthusiasm ; his eyes beamed with ge- 
 nial lustre; he seemed inspired, and desirous of 
 inspiring others with the sacred flame. 
 
 u Ferdinand,’’ said he, when Mrs. Bauer had left 
 us to pass in review the valuables which my im- 
 mense travelling receptacle had brought from Feld- 
 berg, “ Ferdinand, you are come here to study 
 music : before I ask you another question, tell 
 me, is it from your own wish, or that of your 
 friends ?” 
 
 “ Mine, above all things.” 
 u That’s something, my beer; indeed it is much 
 towards future success. But even with this predi- 
 lection on your part, and with the most strenuous 
 exertions you may use, I know as yet too little of 
 you to predict excellence in the art. It is easier 
 to be a great general, a great philosopher — nay, 
 even a distinguished painter or poet, than a great 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 105 
 
 musician. To become a composer of eminence, 
 you must not only bring with you gifts of nature 
 which would enable you to become an artist or poet 
 of the first order, but your frame and your nervous 
 system must be so constituted as to be susceptible 
 of feelings the most delicate and emotions the most 
 powerful. You must be abundantly gifted with a 
 sense of propriety — with an intuitive perception of 
 the beautiful ; you must be an enthusiast for the 
 art ; your heart must be open to every noble and 
 generous impulse — your sentiments chaste, ele- 
 vated, sublime, free from the dross of worldly con- 
 siderations ; your judgment must be correct, your 
 intellect quick and penetrating. And allowing you, 
 my dear Ferdinand, all these most rare endowments 
 of bountiful Nature, they would be like a good soil 
 neglected unless they were cultivated by an assi- 
 duous study of the principles of the art in the first 
 instance, and of other accessary branches more or 
 less connected with it. The Muses, my dear Fer- 
 dinand, are all sisters ; they go hand in hand, lead- 
 ing their darling votary to the temple of Fame. 
 Hence you will have to sacrifice at the shrine of 
 nearly all of them. In directing these accessary 
 studies, I shall take care that you devote a part of 
 your time to the classic poets of every country ; a 
 friend of mine has offered to give you lessons in 
 drawing, and our ballet-master will instruct you in 
 dancing, on condition that you assist him with 
 
106 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 your violin, or on the piano-forte, while he is train- 
 ing the figurantes of our opera establishment. To- 
 morrow I shall myself begin my course of profes- 
 sional instruction with you ; my time being fully 
 occupied this day with the rehearsals for to-night’s 
 performance. To these you can do no better than 
 accompany me forthwith ; so the sooner you get 
 yourself dressed the better.” 
 
 u Dressed !” exclaimed with a smile Mrs. 
 Bauer, who had returned in the midst of this dis- 
 course ; u the whole of his wardrobe, in the tre- 
 mendous trunk up-stairs, does not contain a suit 
 in which I should not be ashamed to see him go 
 out of the house. You would bless yourself to see 
 the newest fashions of Feldberg !” 
 
 I still remember these terrible words, and the 
 disappointment and humiliation which they caused 
 me. After a short consultation, it was decreed 
 that for the present the tailor of the family should 
 be instantly sent for, to select the articles most 
 eligible, and metamorphose them into a cut suffi- 
 ciently fashionable to accompany Mrs. Bauer, in 
 the evening, to the opera. 
 
 The persuasive manners of Mrs. Bauer suc- 
 ceeded in obtaining from the knight of the thim- 
 ble a sacred promise of doing the needful by sun- 
 set, until which time 1 remained of course a close 
 prisoner in the house. In this state of temporary 
 captivity I received a visit from my travelling- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 107 
 
 companion, Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, who, on be- 
 ing informed of the cause of my captivity, remind- 
 ed me of what he had foretold, and proposed im- 
 mediately to cut me a quantum sufficit of his 
 superfine blue Verviers on credit, as long as I 
 pleased ; but this time I manfully resisted his 
 tempting offer. Mr. Benzheimer on this occa- 
 sion gave Mrs. Bauer a most glowing description 
 of the combat at the inn with the students, and 
 spoke in terms of admiration of the valour I dis- 
 played in the engagement. “ Madam,” said he, 
 “ you have with you a young man of the most ex- 
 cellent character — gentle as a lamb, but fierce as a 
 lion when roused by the sight of an injured fel- 
 low-being ; and as for his learning, I ’ll match 
 him against any youth in the capital. The stu- 
 dents thought they had it all to themselves when 
 they talked Latin ; but Mr. Franck knew every 
 word they said, just as if he was born and bred in 
 Greece or Egypt !” 
 
 31 . 
 
 THE OPERA. 
 
 It was a long and tedious day for me ; but the 
 man of fashions kept his word, and appeared be- 
 fore candlelight with his blue bag, containing the 
 second edition of my Feldberg attire, corrected, 
 but not augmented, for the slips he had the con- 
 
108 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 science to return bespoke the havoc of the shears. 
 His taste and ingenuity had done wonders ; for 
 Mrs. Bauer agreed not only that now my person 
 was producible, but that altogether I looked quite 
 handsome. No time, therefore, was lost in pro- 
 ceeding to the theatre, accompanied by a particu- 
 lar friend of Mr. Bauer’s, who had the goodness 
 to lend an arm to his spouse. 
 
 That evening at this moment dwells fresh in 
 my memory. The only regular scenic representa- 
 tions (Punch always excepted) which I had as yet 
 witnessed, were two in number — Dr. Faustus , and 
 the Sufferings of St. Genoveva — both deep tragic 
 dramas, enacted by puppets and wires in a barn at 
 Feldberg. But here I entered a splendid house, 
 filling apace with the beau monde of a gay capital : 
 dashing officers, nobles, counsellors, secretaries, 
 clerks, and other civilians without number ; every 
 one producing his individuality in adjusted cos- 
 tume, and with an air of importance which seemed 
 desirous to impregnate the surrounding atmo- 
 sphere with his consequence — elderly ladies of title, 
 superciliously rustling their brocades over the box 
 benches, and dispensing musk and lavender, and 
 other grateful smells, by way of indemnity for less 
 pleasing sights— -unscented nymphs in the bloom 
 of youth, attired by the Graces in a thousand va- 
 ried and fanciful ways, serious, smiling, languish- 
 ing, lively. My senses were bewildered and stupi- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 109 
 
 Red, until the preparatory operation of tuning 
 called my attention to the orchestra. Two or 
 three minutes more, and the confused hum and 
 buzz of the house, as if by magic, changed into a 
 solemn silence of expectation. Mr. Bauer, with a 
 long white baton , gave the signal, and the over- 
 ture began with a simultaneous crash. The sen- 
 sation I felt may be imagined, but cannot be de- 
 scribed. My frame was in a trance — the delight 
 bordered on suffering. But greater joys, greater 
 trials, awaited the novice. The curtain rose; and 
 Tarar, with his beloved Astasia, joined their 
 voices in a duet of heavenly sweetness. My 
 nerves, soon rising to their maximum of tension, 
 were unable to withstand the powerful shock : in 
 vain I strove to stifle the inward emotion ; the 
 tears trickled down mv cheeks ; I sighed, I sobbed 
 — what followed I can only tell from hearsay, for 
 on opening my eyes I found myself in a large sa- 
 loon, placed on a sofa, leaning on Mrs. Bauer’s 
 arm, inundated with water and eau de Cologne , 
 surrounded by two or three acquaintances of hers, 
 a dozen of curious idlers, &c. 
 
 u It is the heat of the house that has overcome 
 the young man,” said one; while another insisted 
 that it was the smell of the stage-lamps near our 
 box ; and a third was sure it must have been an 
 imaginary alarm of fire, caused by the artificial 
 burning of the palace on the stage. M Come, Fer- 
 
 L 
 
110 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 dinand,” said the kind Mrs. Bauer, “ come into 
 the air ; or rather let us go home at once — you 
 seem very unwell.” — I had by this time gradually 
 recovered, and I heard within the house a power- 
 ful and superb chorus sung in a masterly manner. 
 This charm I could not resist : I begged as a fa- 
 vour to be allowed to return to my place, and Mrs. 
 B. consented, not without great reluctance. The 
 remainder of the opera passed without farther 
 visible consequence on my part : but my whole 
 frame vibrated with every successive part of the 
 music in corresponding and powerful emotion; 
 nascent tears often suffused the glistening eye; 
 my whole being seemed as if dissolving in an 
 ecstacy of delight; but the continuance of the 
 pleasure gradually diminished its more vehement 
 effects : I was no longer totally absorbed in the 
 sense of hearing and transports of intense feeling ; 
 my eyes caught at times Mr. Bauer, wielding, 
 with zeal and enthusiasm, the baton of harmonic 
 command, by which he seemed to hold the whole 
 orchestra suspended and subjected to his will. 
 
 The opera was followed by a pantomimic ballet 
 of action — “Ariadne in Naxos,” — a scenic perform- 
 ance which, although equally novel and full of 
 wonders and delight for me, exerted its influence 
 rather on the senses than on the finer feelings of 
 the heart. 1 sympathised with the forlorn condi- 
 tion of the deserted Cretan maid, and scorned her 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 ill 
 
 seducer Theseus ; but the arrival of Bacchus, ac- 
 companied by his train of bacchantes, satyrs, &c., 
 as it appeared very materially to console the dis- 
 tresses of the daughter of Minos, equally allayed 
 my apprehensions for her fate. The dances, atti- 
 tudes, and groupings of the nymphs, transported 
 my imagination to a land of fairies : I revelled in 
 the delicious enjoyment; but my self-possession 
 remained unaffected, and at the close of the repre- 
 sentation my spirits, although elated and buoyant, 
 were in due keeping. 
 
 32 . 
 
 PROGNOSTICS. 
 
 On our return home we met Mr. Aaron Benz- 
 heimer, who, having just heard of the accident at 
 the opera, came in all haste to inquire after the 
 health of 6 ‘his young friend.” He was invited 
 to join us at supper, which he declined with He- 
 brew humility, having supped already ; but, “ if 
 not intruding, he would do himself the honour to 
 sit half an hour with us.” 
 
 My adventure naturally engrossed much of the 
 conversation. Mr. Bauer, who had observed the 
 accident in the house, declared that it had nearly 
 put him and the orchestra out of countenance. 
 No sooner did Mr. Benzheimer learn from Mrs. 
 Bauer that the occurrence, in her opinion, was ob- 
 
112 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 viously owing to the effect which the music had 
 on my nerves, than he significantly shook his 
 head. 
 
 u Excuse my freedom,” he said, u if I venture 
 to express my humble sentiments before my bet- 
 ters in these matters. I had already formed some 
 ideas about Mr. Franck’s future prospects in the 
 musical line, and this little accident has completely 
 confirmed my opinion, that music is the last thing 
 in which he is likely to make a figure ; it ’s quite 
 clear now that he has no taste for it : what would 
 you say, gentlemen, of a student in medicine that 
 fainted away at an anatomy, or a pupil in painting 
 that felt sick at the smell of linseed and varnish ? 
 I look upon this accident as a hint from Provi- 
 dence. Take my word for it, Mr. Bauer, our 
 young friend will never make a musician. — Nature 
 has intended him for something better than 
 
 Poor Mr. Benzheimer was not permitted to 
 finish his prognostic. Mr. Bauer, the gentle, the 
 good-tempered Mr. Bauer, on hearing the appa- 
 rent slight with which the art, his idol, was men- 
 tioned, nearly choked himself in the abrupt de- 
 glutition of a goodly mouthful of half-masticated 
 venison-pasty. 
 
 “ Better than what, Mr. Benzheimer ?” ex- 
 claimed my irritated Mentor : u no doubt your 
 worldly sagacity would have the lad be a chapman 
 in beads, ear-rings, watches and chains, laces, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 113 
 
 cambrics, and broad-cloths ! If you , Mr. Benz- 
 heimer, have no regard or feeling for an art, as 
 much above your sphere of thinking as the hea- 
 venly strains of the Stabat Mater of Pergolesi are 
 above the drone of a Jew’s harp, I may at least 
 request you will not pollute the mind of my young 
 friend with your grovelling notions.” 
 
 “ Dear me ! I ask a thousand pardons — I meant 
 
 'no offence — I am heartily sorry ” 
 
 “ So you ought to be, Mr. Benzheimer ; your 
 simplicity shall be your excuse. You are sorry for 
 what you have said — that ’s enough, as far as you 
 and I are concerned. But as for Ferdinand, let 
 me observe, that I too look upon the occurrence as 
 a hint from Providence, clearly and imperatively 
 pointing to his future calling. I, although fully 
 engaged in the important task of conducting the 
 orchestra — I remarked the change in Ferdinand’s 
 looks ; I saw him struggle to stifle the sweet emo- 
 tions which that divine duet produced on his 
 frame ; I saw the tears trickle down his rosy 
 cheeks. Those tears, Mr. Benzheimer, were gems 
 more precious than all the pearls and brilliants in 
 your shop.” 
 
 64 Bless us ! bless us ! !” 
 
 u They flowed from a noble source, a tender, a 
 feeling heart — a soul that covibrates with harmo- 
 ny, because it is harmony itself. Happy the pa- 
 rent whose son’s eye is moistened by music ! Let 
 L 3 
 
114 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 him hail those tears as the heralds of all that is 
 noble and generous in human nature — of a por- 
 tion of the divine essence that pervades beings of 
 a superior order. You are my boy, Ferdinand ; I 
 am sure you are a good lad, and I am as certain 
 you will be a good musician.” 
 
 Without fatiguing the reader with a farther 
 detail of this discussion upon music, and its high 
 rank in the scale of human attainments, it may 
 be sufficient to add, that the enthusiasm and elo- 
 quence of Mr. Bauer silenced my modest Hebrew 
 friend ; yet obviously without convincing his mind, 
 especially on the articles of pearls and brilliants 
 and worldly fortune, which latter Mr. Bauer held 
 as nothing compared with fame : while the man 
 of sales and per-centages looked with Falstaff-like 
 indifference upon any excellence unsusceptible of 
 a positive valuation in florins, kreutzers, and 
 pfennings. 
 
 33. 
 
 MONSIEUR DUPRE. 
 
 In the course of a few days, Mr. Bauer com- 
 pleted the plan and arrangements for my musical 
 studies. In the theory of the science, the piano- 
 forte, and singing, I received instruction from 
 himself; and such were his skill, taste, and 
 friendly zeal, and my assiduity and love for the 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 115 
 
 art, that he beheld with delight, as he expressed 
 himself, the growth of the promising tree he had 
 planted and trained with unremitting care. On 
 the violin, which I played tolerably already, I en- 
 joyed the tuition of an excellent master out of 
 doors. For the classics, mythology, and belles 
 lettres in general, a candidate of divinity was se- 
 lected, who attended me at home on very mode- 
 rate terms ; and a friend of Mr. Bauer’s, an 
 artist, allowed me to attend gratis a drawing- 
 school which he had established. 
 
 Dancing I acquired on terms of mutual accom- 
 modation ; Mr. Bauer having, as already stated, 
 made an arrangement with Monsieur Dupre, the 
 ballet-master, which enabled me to partake of his 
 instructions to the eleves de ballet , on condition of 
 my relieving him, as occasion might require, with 
 my violin or the piano-forte. 
 
 The pupils consisted of half a dozen or more 
 girls, and two or three lads, the children of persons 
 in confined circumstances, or professional scions 
 of the theatre. The severe drilling which these 
 aspirants received, under the hands of their French 
 tyrant of hops and steps, formed a striking con- 
 trast with the smiles and graces which they ex- 
 hibited on the theatrical boards. Their youthful 
 and interesting countenances, and their elegant 
 forms, were incapable of disarming the rigour of 
 the iron-hearted Monsieur Dupr£. In this cho- 
 
116 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 ragic reunion , I certainly soon became a very ac- 
 complished dancer ; but as for every thing else 
 that I here learned, the debtor unquestionably 
 overbalanced the creditor side of the account. 
 
 In this branch of the beaux arts I was a per- 
 fect Goth, when I first presented myself at Mon- 
 sieur Dupre’s academy ; since the dance at Baron 
 Wolditz’s, and the gap then and there occurring, 
 I had not once had a heart to venture on farther 
 saltatorian efforts. For the first two or three 
 lessons, therefore, I remained a passive fiddler, as 
 far as related to bodily exertion ; but my looks 
 and thoughts were most intensely of the active 
 kind, when I heard the poor nymphs addressed 
 in terms like these — < 
 
 u Allons done , Mademoiselle Eugenie ! haussez 
 lajambe : raise — a — de laig, Mees. More, more, 
 I say. — Souriez done , Mademoiselle Fanny ; smaile 
 avec grace when you make dat attitude — Tenez 
 
 ferme , nom d?un D : quel a-plomb ! — Encore 
 
 unefois ! et si vous ne faites pas mieux — if you 
 make — a — not bettair, I shall give you one box on 
 de ear, savez-vous .” 
 
 At another time, Monsieur Dupr6 would be- 
 wail his lot, which cast him among German bar- 
 barians. 07a, comme ils sont betes , ces Allemands ! 
 oh, de stupide nation ! qu'on me donne des cochons 
 de France , je les ferai danser mieux . I will make 
 de French pigs dance bettair, je vous en reponds — 
 
FEliDIN AND FRANCK. 117 
 
 point de gout , point de grace ! Ah , juste Ciel , quel 
 sort /” 
 
 44 Knees out, Mademoiselle Victorine ! if you 
 again make dat figure of ten wid your knees, de 
 stocks shall change it into a two ” (This was no 
 vain threat.) 
 
 It was the second or third time of my attend- 
 ance, that the terrible Monsieur Dupre vouchsafed 
 to direct his first attention to my own improve- 
 ment. He would probably have delayed it longer, 
 had not some of the nymphs challenged my co- 
 operation in their saltatorian gambols. 
 
 44 Eh bien /” said he, 44 allons voir son savoir 
 faire — show to the ladies, Mr. Franck, what pro- 
 gress you have made in de art. You waltz, sans 
 douteV' > — 44 A little.” — 44 You dance de minuet, 
 Fame de la danse ?” — 44 So so.” — 44 Eh bien ! 
 a little of dat, so so of de oder : ver’ well, nous 
 allons voir tout-a-Fheure . We shall try a minuet, 
 and I shall give — a — you de best partnair in de 
 academie — ce n'est pas dire grand chose malheu - 
 reusement . Mademoiselle Victorine, come, and 
 
 danse a minuet wid Monsieur Franck, et tachez 
 
 de faire de votre mieux , sans cela vous me 
 
 comprenez .” 
 
 The sylph-like Victorine approached with fear- 
 ful diffidence. Monsieur Dupre took the fiddle ; 
 but — horribile dictu — the first grave obeisance I 
 had to make turned out such a Feldberg bow, ac*. 
 
118 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 companied by such, a genteel retrospective scrape 
 of the left foot, that the whole corps d’eleves de 
 ballet , with the exception of Victorine, setup a 
 most unseemly and discouraging horse-laugh. I 
 was done for, and begged to be excused proceeding. 
 — “ Bah, bah , mon cher !” replied most affection- 
 ately Monsieur Dupre ; u allez votre train — qui 
 ne fait jamais mat ne fera jamais Men” 
 
 It was all in vain : my dancing propensities 
 were at once neutralized — I was even unfit to 
 take, the fiddle again. The time of lesson fortu- 
 nately being nearly over, the reunion was dis- 
 missed, except myself. Monsieur Dupre kindly 
 represented the necessity of some preliminary 
 private lessons ; but regretted that his time was so 
 occupied, that it would be next to impossible for 
 him to accomplish this object. At last recollecting 
 himself, he observed, that as I wrote a beautiful 
 hand, if I could copy for him, au net , a collection 
 of dances which he intended to publish, he might 
 possibly find time to give me half an hour in the 
 early part of the morning. In this manner I ob- 
 tained his exclusive tuition for two or three weeks 
 almost daily, which, assisted by my own exertions, 
 an innate pride, and the encouragement from the 
 lovely Victorine, soon rendered me competent to 
 join triumphantly in the evolutions of those to 
 whom I had but recently been an object of mer- 
 riment. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 119 
 
 34. 
 
 WHO COULD HAVE THOUGHT IT ? 
 
 Thus I became one of the best dancers in the 
 capital, without being conscious of my excellence ; 
 for as yet, and for some time to come, no oppor- 
 tunity was afforded me of displaying it publicly. 
 
 This talent, as Mr. Bauer had well calculated, 
 proved of infinite service in my musical studies ; 
 I obtained insensibly correct notions of time, 
 rhythm, symmetry, precision, expression : and I 
 fully experienced the truth of Mr. Bauer’s re- 
 marks, that taste and elegance acquired in one 
 branch of the domain of the arts shed their genial 
 influence over every other. 
 
 My improvement in music, and in the other 
 branches of tuition, was visible and rapid. The 
 dancing, however, at Monsieur Dupre’s, was sud- 
 denly put a stop to ; Mrs. Bauer very prudently 
 observing, that, as I had learnt there as much 
 as I could ever want, and more probably than 
 was necessary, my farther attendance among a 
 parcel of giddy girls was quite improper. Where 
 she got her information I could not guess ; but, 
 open and sincere as she was in all her actions, 
 she told Mr. Bauer, in my presence, that she 
 knew I already entertained a very marked partiality 
 for Victorine. u Am I right or not, Ferdinand ?” 
 
120 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 I blushed. u There ! did I not tell you, Edward, 
 that this would be the consequence ?” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. “ Who could have thought it ?” 
 Mrs. Bauer (smiling.) u Thought it ! Why, 
 every body but yourself : the lad is not made of 
 stone or marble ; you have cast him in the midst 
 of temptation, and now you are thunderstruck 
 with astonishment : but Ferdinand has sense 
 enough, I know, to give up all farther thoughts 
 of such an acquaintance. There is abundance of 
 time, my dear Ferdinand, to form attachments ; 
 and when you do form one, it will not, I hope, be 
 on a box-keeper’s daughter that you will throw 
 yourself away. Your heart, your talents, and — I 
 will say it — your person, are worthy of much 
 higher views. So let this have been a youthful 
 frolic, and think no more of it.” 
 
 I endeavoured to follow the well-meant coun- 
 sel, but it was up-hill work ; our meetings were 
 less frequent, but not discontinued. 
 
 35 . 
 
 FIVE OF DIAMONDS. 
 
 On returning one evening from the drawing- 
 lesson, Barbel, who had become a great friend of 
 mine, announced the arrival of a letter. 66 Mis- 
 tress has got it, and a good weight it is ; twenty- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 121 
 
 four kreutzers for the postage !” I eagerly tore 
 the cover, and recognised the hand-writing of my 
 patron : — 
 
 My dear Ferdinand, 
 
 The landlord of the Three Kings at Walbach has been 
 here to buy hay, and in selling him two loads, I accident- 
 ally heard of your encounter with the students at his 
 house. Well done, my boy ! your taking the Jew’s part 
 was honourable and manly in you ; you could not know 
 that the rascal, not two years ago, cheated me wofully 
 with the pie-bald mare that now goes in the team. If he 
 dares again set foot on my estate, may my name not be 
 Wolditz, if he don’t receive baptism in my horsepond# 
 But no matter : you distinguished yourself nobly in a bad 
 cause; you pommelled the book-worms lustily, I hear; 
 and this display of your courage has given you new claims 
 on my friendship. As a proof of my satisfaction, I send 
 herewith one of my best swords, to serve you in case of 
 need, as it served me in cutting my way through the enemy 
 on the unfortunate day at Colin, where it received the 
 notch it still retains. The inclosed trifle is for your pocket, 
 to drink my health with. I have no doubt you are mak- 
 ing great progress in music, and hope ere long to witness 
 your improvement. 
 
 Baron Fritz sends his love. The rascal is as wild as 
 ever, plays sad pranks, and quarrels with every body ; but 
 he will soon have need for his mettle. In a few days I 
 shall lose the dear boy, perhaps for ever. I have at last 
 got him a cornetcy in the Red Hussars, now in winter- 
 quarters on the Maine • and next Saturday he sets out to 
 
 join the dep6t at K . He takes my Rosbach sabre ; 
 
 so please God, the French may, before long, feel its tickle 
 from the nephew, somewhat in the uncle’s style. 
 
 I would say more, but my heart is heavy at the idea of 
 losing the rebel. I wish you could supply his place for a 
 while; but it must not be ! so God’s will be done. Old 
 Wolditz will have courage enough to fight a host of blue 
 devils single-handed. 
 
 M 
 
J22 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 Your uncle and aunt are both well, and desire their 
 love to you. 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 WOLDITZ. 
 
 P.S. Spitz, that faithful beast, died suddenly last Friday. 
 The cold is making sad havoc among my kennel. 
 
 The enclosure was simply a Five of Diamonds , 
 with a cross-cut in every pip large enough to hold 
 between the slits a gold louis-d’or. Five louis- 
 d’ors ! ! The thing looked vastly ornamental, 
 pleasing, and consoling. I at once felt a Croesus 
 in riches, but was lost in a sea of conflicting doubts 
 as to the most fit appropriation of at least part of 
 this treasure. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer in a moment put an end to all un- 
 certainty : u Ferdinand,” said she, u this will just 
 do to metamorphose a Feldberg nondescript into 
 the smartest and best-looking beau of the whole 
 capital. You are miserably off for clothes — the 
 very dogs in the streets are annoyed at your ap- 
 pearance. Leave the thing to me, and in two days 
 you shall not know your own self again — a very 
 Narcissus, an Adonis, an Antinous, an Apollo ; 
 ay, and better than all of them together, a good 
 face, a good heart, and good sense. Come along 
 this instant.” 
 
 There was no resisting — indeed, no inclination 
 to resist. In less than ten minutes’ time we 
 stood at the counter of Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, 
 and saw him wield, with infinite glee, yard and 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 123 
 
 scissars over his very best piece of superfine blue Ver- 
 viers. “ Ten per cent, discount for ready money, 
 ten per cent, more for my young friend, and five 
 per cent, by way of compliment to this dear and 
 good lady 1 I lose by it — no matter ! I should be 
 sorry to get a kreutzer by the hero of Walbach : 
 but mum ’s the word ; if you mention your bar- 
 gain to a soul, I ’m ruined.” 
 
 36. 
 
 OUT OF TUNE. 
 
 Under the zealous and tasteful management of 
 Mrs. Bauer, this total regeneration was the work 
 of two days. Mr. Bauer himself was delighted 
 with the transformation ; and to afford me, as he 
 said, an opportunity of exhibiting my person 
 forthwith, sent me out a-tuning. u There is 
 the hump-backed assessor Metzler’s harpsichord — 
 an excellent instrument, for it wants tuning every 
 month: Parson Hammer’s will also want it by 
 this time : and here is a note from Baron Dohm, 
 who is just come to town with his niece for the 
 season ; her grand piano must be tuned immedi- 
 ately — do your best, for she is one of my pupils, 
 and a charming musician.” 
 
 Vanity of my trappings, no doubt, and a curi- 
 osity to see, perhaps, this charming musician, his 
 niece, induced me to give aristocratic preference 
 
124 , 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 to the Baron’s commands. I strutted consequen- 
 tially through the most frequented streets ; when, 
 lo ! on turning a corner, whom should I pop on 
 hut little Victorine? She stood, she spoke, she 
 sighed ; she thought I must he offended at some- 
 thing. The wound, nearly cicatrized, reopened at 
 once a wide portal to a host of exiled infant 
 Cupids, who took repossession without chance of 
 ejectment. New promises and protestations — 
 every thing on the old, footing — appointment for 
 to-morrow — pressure of hands — affectionate sepa- 
 ration ; — all the good Mrs. Bauer’s work torn up 
 hy the root ! 
 
 My farther course to the grand piano was not 
 quite so sprightly and confident as its beginning 
 had been. I reached the house in thought, with 
 any thing but a tuneful ear ; the Baron out on his 
 morning ride — his niece engaged with a friend, — 
 I might begin until she could speak to me. Sad 
 work I made of it, — not a pure unison — not a de- 
 cent fifth ; — the stubborn wires vibrated in jarring 
 beats. At last I heard the approach of female 
 steps, — the door opened. 
 
 Heavens ! it was Amelia Waldheim ! Crash 
 flew the wire, and my nerves were ready to follow 
 the example. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 215 
 
 37- 
 
 PLAY FOR LOVE. 
 
 u Is it possible? or do my eyes deceive me?*’ 
 exclaimed Amelia, in a tone of intense surprize, 
 as sbe entered tbe room. u Surely it is Mr. 
 Franck, my Feldberg friend! And to what 
 strange combinations of fate am I indebted for 
 this unexpected meeting ?” 
 
 u To a brass wire or two out of tune I owe tbe 
 happiness of seeing once more Miss Waldheim, 
 whose image, whose voice, whose kindness, have 
 filled my thoughts ever since the memorable even- 
 ing at the house of Baron Wolditz, my friend and 
 patron. Placed by his paternal goodness under 
 the care of Mr. Bauer, it was by desire of the 
 latter that I came to tune this instrument without 
 knowing its owner.” 
 
 u How droll ! and a scholar of Mr. Bauer’s 
 too ! We are fellow-pupils, then, of the good 
 man ; and do you know, Mr. Franck, he is vastly 
 proud of me.” 
 
 “ Who would not be proud of such a pupil ?” 
 u Oh ! I can tell you of one directly. There is 
 old Professor Rophelius, who, by the particular 
 wish of my uncle, was to teach me algebra. Poor 
 soul ! he took infinite pains to beat his pluses and 
 minuses into my dull brain, and to give me a 
 M 3 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 m 
 
 taste of involution and evolution, solution and re- 
 solution ; but I made a sorry hand of it. I 
 plagued him sadly, to sicken him of his ungrateful 
 task. When he maintained that two negative 
 quantities multiplied together yielded an affirma- 
 tive product, I said it was no such thing, for two 
 fibs, multiplied a thousand times, would never 
 make a true story.. — All would not do ! Professor 
 Rophelius had the patience of an angel. At last 
 I hit upon the thing. When he went on stating 
 his equations and casting his quantities, I began 
 casting a tender and languishing look at his red 
 nose ; I sighed, I palpitated, until old Rophy be- 
 came horror-struck at the idea of having, for the 
 first time, conquered somewhat else than alge- 
 braical problems, packed up his x’s and y’s, and 
 left me master of the field.” 
 
 u The expedient, you will allow, Miss Wald- 
 heim, was both cruel and hazardous. Ninety-nine 
 out of a hundred would have fallen willing vic- 
 tims — I, for one.” 
 
 u A skilful physician, Mr. Franck, adapts his 
 remedies to the age and constitution of his patient. 
 We don’t give bark and constantia in a brain- 
 fever. Besides, in the case of the algebraical pro- 
 fessor Rophelius, love was resorted to as a re- 
 pellent.” 
 
 “ A repellent ! Miss Waldheim. The most 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 127 
 
 noble of human affections, the very essence of 
 which is attraction, used as a repellent ?” 
 
 44 Oh, but it has its negative as well as its po- 
 sitive poles — you ’ll find that by and by, Mr. 
 Franck.’’ 
 
 44 Never, never, Miss Waldheim ; may that 
 moment......” 
 
 44 Don’t swear, whatever you do. I am a bit 
 of a mathematician, as I told you — always ready 
 with proof. You know well enough, by this time, 
 old Barbel, Mr. Bauer’s faithful domestic. Sup- 
 pose, what Heaven forbid ! the veteran beauty, 
 smitten with c the noblest of all human affec- 
 tions,’ pining for the youthful heart of Mr. 
 Franck, declaring her flame by looks as languish- 
 ing as le physique of her reduced optical apparatus 
 would admit of. Methinks I hear the aforesaid 
 Mr. Franck, horror-struck, ejaculate , 4 Avaunt, thou 
 tempter !’ &c. &c. Quod erat demonstrandum , as 
 Professor Rophelius used to say when he had fi- 
 nished his problems.” 
 
 44 But suppose, Miss Waldheim ’* 
 
 44 We’ll suppose another time, Mr. Franck. I 
 have a morning call or two to make, and am all 
 this while interrupting your tuning. You’ll 
 oblige me by doing your best to finish the instru- 
 ment. I shall soon be back, for I wish much to 
 try two or three things which I am shortly to 
 
128 
 
 FEUDIttAND FBAKCK. 
 
 sing in company. To-morrow week, you must 
 know, is my birthday, and my uncle gives a little 
 fete , partly musical, on the occasion. It is to be 
 at Monplaisir, and we shall feel great pleasure if 
 you will be of the party. So mind, don’t engage 
 yourself, Mr. Franck : d revoir!” 
 
 What a change in my whole being one short 
 hour was capable of producing ! The agitation, 
 the conflict, the chaos of sensations in which 
 Amelia left me, would afford ample matter for a 
 sentimentally descriptive, chapter in a novel ; and 
 there can be no question that, even in the more 
 solid department of biography, the present would 
 be a legitimate opportunity for a considerable ex- 
 tent of fine writing, but for the regard which I 
 conscientiously entertain for the time of my read- 
 ers. What I might say has, to my knowledge, 
 been repeatedly and most satisfactorily exhibited 
 in letter-press: nay, many of my readers, I am 
 sure, have experienced feelings quite similar upon 
 similar occasions 5 and those that have not, I am 
 perfectly certain, can pretty well imagine the 
 sensations I experienced. 
 
 Suffice it therefore to say, in one word, what I 
 felt was love ; love intense, love in a state of the 
 highest condensation and compression, such as I 
 had been a stranger to before. How pure, how 
 vivid, and ethereal, appeared the flame which 
 Amelia, as with the heavenly torch of Prometheus, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 129 
 
 liad kindled in my bosom, when compared with 
 the dim and evanescent glimmer of Victorine’s 
 image ; and, above all, with the gross and murky 
 halo through which I now saw the chubby full- 
 moon face of Mary Dickel of Feldberg memory! 
 
 What a gradation ! what a contrast ! Amelia- 
 how intellectual, how spirituous, how supremely 
 cultivated ! ^nd how kind, how affable, to one she 
 had seen but once before ! whispered self-conceit— 
 Her discernment, no doubt, found something in- 
 teresting, something congenial. Mr. Benzheim- 
 er’s superfine blue Venders was, indeed, reflected 
 satisfactorily from the lofty French mirror over 
 the marble console ; but what are fine draperies in 
 the eyes of the highly-gifted Amelia ? The mind, 
 the intellectual endowments, perhaps too the 
 sparkling looks, the beaming countenance — those 
 heralds of mental perfection,— these, all these 
 may have pleaded my cause with the lovely 
 Amelia. 
 
 The foregoing, and other most comforting and 
 encouraging reflections, were the work of a mo- 
 ment ; for I recollected my charmer’s parting re- 
 quest — to finish her piano without loss of time. 
 Love is harmony; my whole frame vibrated har- 
 moniously, and the wires kindly vibrated in con- 
 cert. Never was an instrument attuned more 
 rapidly, more truly : no wolf, no jarring ; every 
 trial proved correct ; prelude crowded upon pre» 
 
130 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 lude ; tender and soothing melodies alternated 
 with the skilful modulations and genial fantasies 
 of the enraptured lover. 
 
 u Bravo ! bravissimo !” exclaimed a voice be- 
 hind me, accompanied by a gentle tap on the 
 shoulder; when, on turning round, I beheld an 
 elderly gentleman, of dignified aspect, in a damask 
 morning-gown ; his scanty hair well powdered ; em- 
 broidered waistcoat, silk stockings, black cordovan 
 shoes, with moderate-sized gold buckles. I imme- 
 diately recognized the features of Amelia’s uncle, 
 Baron Dohm ; he seemed willing to recollect mine ; 
 a few questions, addressed to me with a certain 
 degree of aristocratic condescension, elicited the 
 requisite information as to my errand, my patron, 
 calling, and instructor.— The Baron congratulated 
 me on my good fortune in having such a man as 
 Mr. Bauer for a master, and was pleased to re- 
 mark, that, from what he had heard just now, I 
 was not only likely to do honour to his tuition, hut 
 in a fair way of making my fortune. u Our most 
 gracious sovereign,” he continued, “ is enthusias- 
 tically fond of music; and as this passion is, 
 amidst numberless redeeming virtues, the only 
 foible with which his bitterest enemies can tax the 
 best of monarchs, his loyal subjects not only look 
 on it with indulgence, but, in a great measure, 
 follow the example set to them. We have men 
 high in office who devote a portion of their time to 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 131 
 
 musical practice; it is quite common here for 
 clerks in the public departments to sing duets, 
 trios, and finales, while writing public dispatches 
 and accounts at their desks ; and but lately a lu- 
 crative appointment was bestowed upon a foreigner 
 for no other reason than because he was a most 
 skilful amateur on the kettledrum ; which instru- 
 ment had previously been but indifferently filled 
 at our grand opera. — Music and the drama, Mr. 
 Franck, are every thing here at this moment; and 
 I verily believe we are all of us more or less car- 
 ried away by the fashion of the day. A-propos, 
 my young friend, are you in the habit of playing 
 from a score ?” 
 
 u It forms a principal branch of Mr. Bauer’s in- 
 struction, and I have devoted to it much attention 
 and practice.” 
 
 The Baron here stept out ; and instantly return- 
 ing with a thick roll of music, placed it before me, 
 to know, as he expressed himself, my savoir fair e. 
 
 “ Surely,” said I, u this is Mr. Bauer’s hand- 
 writing.” 
 
 u Never mind, let us hear ” 
 
 66 Bravo ! charming, my young Orpheus ! You 
 are the man we want. But first of all I must 
 depend upon your secresy. I am glad to find Mr. 
 Bauer has attended to my injunctions. This little 
 trifle, you must know, Mr. Franck, is a mytholo- 
 gical ballet of my invention, with which I mean to 
 
132 
 
 FEliDlHAND FltANCK. 
 
 surprise my niece on her birthday next Tuesday 
 week. Mr. Bauer has set it to music, and, as 
 you may suppose, was to preside at the piano ; but 
 this morning only he has informed me, that for 
 that very day a grand rehearsal of the new opera 
 has been announced, at which his attendance is 
 indispensable. The birthday, of course, cannot be 
 put off ; and to put off a grand rehearsal in this 
 musical capital is not a trifle, I can assure you, 
 although we shall try hard for it. To be prepared 
 for the worst, however, I would have you run 
 over the music and give it a little practice ; it shall 
 be sent to you, together with the book. You ’ll 
 therefore consider yourself engaged by me for 
 Tuesday week, to lend a hand at my musical fete 
 at Monplaisir. In any case your services will be 
 useful, and you will have an opportunity of mak- 
 ing yourself a little known before some of the best 
 families in the capital, besides being a louis the 
 richer for it.” 
 
 u I feel deeply your Excellency’s kindness ; but 
 my services, allow me to observe, must be without 
 any other remuneration than the honour of their be- 
 ing deemed deserving of your Excellency’s notice.” 
 
 “ No, no, Mr. Franck ; on such conditions we 
 should be obliged to dispense with your assistance. 
 You are not an amateur ; and you will meet many 
 of your profession, and some of the first eminence, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 133 
 
 whose talents are engaged upon terms of remune- 
 ration : but we shall talk about this another time. 
 All I have to request is, the strictest secresy ; not 
 a word to a living soul : for, between us, I have an 
 additional and important aim in view. The ballet 
 is quite allegorical, and its object is to convey a de- 
 licate hint to my niece to hasten her marriage.” 
 This sound acted as a crash of thunder in my 
 ears. I believe I just reechoed, wonderstruck, 
 “ Marriage ! Miss Waldheim ?” 
 
 “ I am surprised you have not heard of it ; for the 
 match has been the talk of the capital this twelve- 
 month past, and it is high time it should be real- 
 ized. Major von Dornhoff’s patience is really quite 
 exemplary, considering his lofty spirit, his fortune, 
 and his family — one of the most ancient among the 
 higher nobility of the country. One of his ances- 
 tors fought in the Crusades ; his ashes repose in the 
 island of Cyprus.” 
 
 “ Perhaps Miss Waldheim feels no particular in- 
 clination ” 
 
 “ On the contrary, my niece likes the Major well 
 enough : but the girl is an oddity ; she has the 
 
 most singular notions about ” 
 
 At this word Amelia’s carriage was heard below : 
 the Baron snatched up his manuscript, once more 
 enjoined strict secresy, and hastily withdrew. 
 
 A servant appeared soon afterwards, to request 
 
 N 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 134 
 
 that I would tarry a few minutes, as Miss Wald- 
 heim had a friend below, whom she had found 
 waiting for her. 
 
 38 . 
 
 LOVE ON HORSEBACK. 
 
 I tried in vain to beguile the time at the piano i 
 every idea was sombre, disjointed, flat, and meagre; 
 the fingers wandered about mechanically — the 
 heart had no share in their motion. How distaste- 
 ful, how sickening, is music to a mind ill at ease l 
 « A rival 1” said I to myself, “ a favoured rival— a 
 rival whose ancestor fought in the Crusades ! Ah ! 
 poor Ferdinand, thy case is desperate indeed— thy 
 lot miserable. Fly, fly these hateful walls, ere 
 thou behold her once more.” At these words I seized 
 my hat ; but I felt as if spell-bound. The rosy 
 goddess, Hope, breathed her sweet harmonious 
 whispers : c A twelvemonth’s courtship !’ — c the 
 girl is an oddity’— c has the most singular notions.’ 
 The thing is clear — clear as broad day; Amelia 
 hates the Major— a feeling of obedience towards 
 her uncle — unhappy for the rest of her days— 
 sacrificed to family pride !— Thou, Ferdinand, art 
 the Guardian Angel sent for her deliverance— 
 elope— distant climes— cottage— bread and the pure 
 element, seasoned with mutual love ;— Letter 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 135 
 
 ay, a letter declaring my passion, and offering my 
 immediate aid in her rescue. 
 
 Pen and paper, as if providentially sent, being 
 
 on a side-table, I began the momentous dispatch 
 
 with a large ugly blot, besides minor opaque satel- 
 lites — bad omen— -fresh sheet. 
 
 u My dear Miss Waldheim.” 
 
 Farther this deponent said not. All mental 
 emissions seemed hermetically sealed ; not a ra- 
 tional idea for a beginning ! And how indite a 
 letter without a beginning ? 
 
 “ Pardon the boldness of one ” Here the 
 
 bell rang below, a pair of boots and clattering spurs 
 were heard cavalrily stalking out of the house: my 
 u unpardonable boldness” had scarcely time to 
 slink to the pocket of its owner, before Amelia 
 opened the door. 
 
 66 Excuse my making you wait, Mr. Franck, but 
 I had a beau of mine to receive— Major Dornhoff, 
 whose attentions are too marked and constant to 
 be treated with neglect. He pays his respects daily 
 and most chronometrically, just an hour before 
 parade : but to-day he was behind his time, owing 
 to an illness in his family; his Camilla has passed 
 a very restless night ; « much fever— not eaten a 
 
 morsel these four-and-twenty hours the groom 
 
 Obliged to sit up with her all night : and, though 
 somewhat composed this morning, the farrier still 
 
136 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 considers her in danger. ’—Poor beast ! don’t you 
 sympathize, Mr. Franck ?” 
 
 u I envy the man whose very charger can 
 awaken the sympathies of Miss Waldheim.” 
 
 u No more than natural, Mr. Franck, as in 
 duty hound : for the Major, as the world will 
 have it, is my intended.” 
 u Heaven forbid !” 
 
 u Forbid, Mr. Franck ? and what can be your 
 objections ?” 
 
 u Because the union must render Miss Wald- 
 heim unhappy for the rest of her days. Affec- 
 tion, I should apprehend, can have no share in 
 it.” 
 
 u Whatever foibles Major Dornhoff may pos- 
 sess, I assure you, Mr. Franck, he is a very good 
 sort of a man ; quite likely to make a woman 
 comfortable in his way.” 
 
 66 If he treats her but half as well as his horses. 
 
 But when there *s no love, Miss Waldheim ” 
 
 u Well, and what then? I don’t see why a 
 woman should be over head and ears in love with 
 a man before she marries him. This love, to be 
 sure, must be a strange thing ; something like the 
 gout, I suppose, — nobody can fancy what it is till 
 he has felt it : I wonder if ever I shall have a 
 touch of the complaint. Just for a day or two, by 
 way of knowing a little about it, I should not 
 care.” 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 1ST 
 
 “ Miss Waldheim, then, has never experienced 
 what it is ?” 
 
 u Not that I know of : you, no doubt, have felt 
 it, Mr. Franck ?” 
 
 u And feel it deeply, intensely, Miss Wald- 
 heim, at this moment, when the heavenly object 
 of my pure, of my ” 
 
 Amelia (shutting my lips with her hand, which 
 1 kissed fervently). u Not another word, Mr. 
 Franck ! We are growing too serious by half. 
 Come, we were to try some songs against the 
 fete. Here ’s one to begin with : Mozart’s divine 
 air, Porgi Amore — a favourite of my uncle’s. 
 That’s the tempo , exactly!” 
 
 Every note of Amelia’s beautiful voice was a 
 killing dart, in my situation. Totally absorbed, 
 I am unconscious what or how I played. Wretch- 
 edly, no doubt ; for she stopped short in the midst 
 of the air, and, after a minute’s pause, burst out 
 laughing : — u So, Mr. Franck, you want me to 
 sing Porgi Amore to the tune of Ah Perdona ! 
 for, without once looking at the notes, you have 
 most skilfully contrived to slip from one air into 
 the other.” 
 
 u Pardon me, Miss Waldheim : my feelings 
 were but little calculated for the task when I 
 began ; and the air, and the intense expression 
 which you infused into every word and note, com- 
 N 3 
 
138 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 pie ted the work of destruction — unnerved, over- 
 whelmed me.” 
 
 u The noble creature Man^ the Lord of the 
 Creation, unnerved by Woman, a second edition 
 of himself? overwhelmed by a mere song? ,, 
 
 u By sounds of heavenly sweetness, uttered 
 with an emotion which — I cannot suppress the 
 thought, Miss Waldheim — deeply shook my faith 
 in your previous declaration. What ! a stranger 
 to love, and yet depict it with a feeling so true, 
 so intense ? Ah no, Miss W aldheim ! your heart 
 feels it but too well ; feels — for another more 
 happy than ” 
 
 u As if the chubby well-fed friar could not 
 preach an excellent sermon against good living. 
 All matter of imitation — study and task-work. 
 But since you doubt my sincerity, Mr. Franck, 
 it were better we end a discussion which I fear 
 has been already carried too far. Allow me to 
 withdraw.” 
 
 u Stay, for Heaven’s sake, Miss Waldheim ! 
 grant me but another moment, to save me from 
 despondency. The rash avowal of a passion I 
 cannot control has justly drawn upon me your 
 displeasure. Your forgiveness is all I ask. Your 
 anger would for ever seal my wretched doom.” 
 
 “ Anger, Mr. Franck ! how can you think of 
 such a thing ? I do not see why a woman should 
 be offended with a man for loving her. The ut» 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 139 
 
 most she is warranted in doing, would be to de- 
 cline the offer courteously, without being obliged 
 to state why and wherefore. But even upon this 
 point you have had all the information I can 
 give.” 
 
 “ You are right, Miss Waldheim ; a happier 
 rival ” 
 
 “ You are wrong, Mr. Franck ; there is no rival 
 in the case.” 
 
 44 Major Dornhoff ?” 
 
 44 The poor Major seems to haunt you as much 
 as he does me. His courtship is persevering, it is 
 true ; and sanctioned, moreover, by my uncle. 
 But to give you another proof of the sincerity you 
 so much doubt, I frankly tell you my heart is 
 free — free as the air which I breathe.” 
 
 44 These balmy words, Miss Waldheim, restore 
 me to life. A fresh ray of hope gladdens my 
 heart. But yet Major Dornhoff’ s assiduities — ” 
 
 44 Are tolerated, not encouraged. Not that he 
 might not, for aught I know, make a very pass- 
 able husband. He is a man of correct principles, 
 and generally esteemed ; but he loves himself, 
 and, next to himself, his cattle, too dearly to have 
 much affection to spare for a wife. He was to 
 have come to take my uncle and me to town in 
 his equipage ; but when the time drew near, his 
 whole equine establishment was pronounced unfit 
 to venture, without imminent risk, on a journey 
 
140 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 of a few German miles. Not to speak of poor 
 Camilla, the valetudinarian, Vesta had sore eyes 
 and Lucretia a running of the nose, which ren- 
 dered it impossible for the dear creatures to en- 
 counter the bleak easterly winds.” 
 
 “ Monstrous ! unpardonable ! Ah, Miss Wald- 
 heim ! how I should have flown to the delightful 
 task ! My life, my last breath, I am ready to re- 
 sign for your sake.” 
 
 “ That would be a sad thing too, on both sides, 
 I should imagine ; but jesting aside, Mr. Franck, 
 you must think of some other choice. In the 
 first place, I feel no inclination whatsoever to 
 submit to the bonds of Hymen. My heart is free, 
 as I have told you already, and free it shall re- 
 main, at least as long as I can help it : but what 
 is more, void as I myself may feel, and certainly 
 do feel, of any thing bordering upon aristocratic 
 notions, my uncle’s ideas are quite the reverse ; 
 to none but a union with a noble family will his 
 consent ever be obtained ; and he is too good an 
 uncle — he has too scrupulously discharged a fa- 
 ther’s duty — not to render it mine to comply with 
 his wishes in that respect. Let me, therefore, beg 
 it as a favour ” 
 
 At these words, the arrival of two female 
 friends was announced. I took my leave reluc- 
 tantly ; for I would fain have asked one more 
 question, fain have prolonged the interview for 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 141 
 
 ever. As I withdrew, Amelia in a playful way 
 tapped my shoulder, and said, u Now mind you 
 behave well, Mr. Franck, and do not pine like a 
 woe-begone knight-errant. We remain friends, 
 I hope : why should there not be friendship be- 
 tween the two sexes, without rings and banns ?” 
 On crossing the hall, a servant handed me 
 a sealed parcel containing the score of the ballet ; 
 which, however, remained but a short time in 
 my possession, as, through Baron Dohm’s influ- 
 ence, the day for the opera rehearsal was changed, 
 and the impediment to Mr. Bauer’s attending at 
 Monplaisir removed. 
 
 39. 
 
 A SPOONFUL OF MUSIC. 
 
 Better late than never,” Monsieur Ferdinand, 
 said old Barbel, as I met her descending Mr. 
 Bauer’s stairs with an armful of discarded plates 
 and dishes ; u master and mistress have done 
 dinner : they waited a precious while ; but I have 
 kept every thing nice and hot for you, Monsieur 
 Ferdinand, that I have.” 
 
 I accounted and apologised to Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bauer as well as I could for my late return ; but 
 there was too much confusion and abstraction in 
 my expressions and manner not to attract the pe- 
 netrating notice of the latter. “ What ! five 
 
142 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 hours over one instrument, Ferdinand ?” (shaking 
 her head) 44 I hope you ’ll not have to get your 
 bread by tuning.” 
 
 44 And why not five hours, my dear ?” asked the 
 good Mr. Bauer, while handing me a plate of 
 soup : 44 when the instrument has been standing 
 for months in a room without a fire, half a dozen 
 wires minus, perhaps, and not a note in tune ; 
 wretched enough, I dare say !” 
 
 44 It is very good.” 
 
 44 Oh ! you finished the business ? that ’s right, 
 Ferdinand ; never leave a thing when you have 
 once begun it. Did you see Miss Waldheim ? 
 Did she play on it ? Was she satisfied ?” 
 
 44 No ; oh ! yes, yes ; I can hardly tell.” 
 
 44 Nor anybody else, I vouch, from your infor- 
 mation. Well, what do you think of Miss Wald- 
 heim’s playing ? How do you like it ?” 
 
 44 It is excellent ! I’ll take another spoonful !” 
 Here Mrs. Bauer, bursting out in a loud laugh, 
 exclaimed, 44 A spoonful of music ? excellent ! ca- 
 pital 1 What ails the lad ? His senses are abroad.” 
 Mr. Bauer, never missing an opportunity for 
 mirth, also laughed immoderately at the idea of a 
 spoonful of music, wittily adding, 44 The expres- 
 sion, my dear, is not so preposterous as you ima- 
 gine ; on the contrary, it is literally applicable to 
 one or two of our vocal luminaries, who mouth and 
 chew their words and sounds as if they had to swal- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 143 
 
 low them by spoonfuls, or were uttering them 
 through a medium of hasty-pudding. Although 
 Mrs. Bauer, as in duty bound, had a laugh for this 
 good thing of her spouse’s, she could not help ob- 
 serving, that my eating was mere pantomime, quite 
 nominal ; and she felt sure that something was the 
 matter with me. u Has any thing happened, Fer- 
 dinand ? Have you been any where else ?” 
 
 w Nowhere but at Baron Dohm’s, from the time 
 I left home until my return.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer, who, among the various attentions 
 which his comfortable philosophy devoted to his 
 dear self, deemed a nap after dinner highly condu- 
 cive to the action of digestion, had already pro- 
 claimed the partial presence of the poppied divi- 
 nity, by a few sotto voce nasal intonations. But as 
 yet he remained in that neutral state of limbo, in 
 which external impressions are still allowed en- 
 trance, and the gradual importunities of the intru- 
 der may be temporarily stayed by divers bodily 
 efforts, such as a goggling stare of the eyes, a shake 
 of the head, a twitch, &c. 
 
 Taking, therefore, a very ample pinch of snuff 
 out of the salt-cellar, he just observed to Mrs. B. 
 that he was sure there was nothing the matter with 
 me but fatigue. u ’Tis no trifle, my dear, to bend 
 your body four or five hours over a piano, handling 
 cankery brass wires, and being stunned with an 
 unceasing ding-dong, till you are no longer capable 
 
144 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 of distinguishing a unison, much less a fifth or a 
 
 third, and your head — your head that’s a...l...l” 
 
 64 That’s not all!” reechoed the sagacious Mrs. 
 Bauer, with a much more significant nod of the 
 head than that of her good husband on finally 
 closing the shutters of his visual apparatus, and 
 dropping into a placid state of countenance, from 
 which it was to be inferred that fantastical inter- 
 nal workings of pleasing import had already com- 
 menced. 
 
 u That ’s not all,” said Mrs. Bauer : “ you have 
 eaten nothing, Ferdinand, you sigh ; your mind is 
 wandering ; you are ill at ease. These blushes, 
 the lovely heralds of conflict between error and in- 
 nocence, betray you, Ferdinand. You have seen 
 Victdrine !” 
 
 u Seen ! yes, by mere accident, in the street, on 
 going to Miss......... to Baron Dohm’s.” 
 
 u You did not speak to her ?” 
 
 66 But a few words. The meeting was accidental ; 
 it would scarcely have been decorous to turn away 
 from her. But believe me, Mrs. Bauer, your ap- 
 prehensions are perfectly groundless : your former 
 caution has had its due effect ; I feel its truth in 
 full force. How ridiculous should I have appeared 
 in the eyes of the world, in my own estimation, if 
 this transient acquaintance with a forward, pert 
 little figurante, had led to a more serious attach- 
 ment ! I have done with her, Mrs. Bauer ; and 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 H5 
 
 beg you will not put me in mind of a folly I was 
 on the brink of committing.” 
 
 “ Done with her ? a pert littlfc figurante ! Fer- 
 dinand, what means all this ? We have all at once 
 modulated into a new key.” Here Mrs. Bauer’s 
 countenance betrayed the workings of the keenest 
 mental combinations. For one moment, her black 
 penetrating eyes shed a luminous beam, while her 
 half-open lips and raised dark brows betokened as- 
 tonishment. u No,” said she, shaking her head, 
 u he would never have such presumption ; besides, 
 the attempt would be hopeless ; her heart has been 
 
 pledged these ” 
 
 a Her heart, Mrs. Bauer, is free — free as the 
 air she breathes ! These were her own words.” 
 u Whose heart, pray ? whose words ?” 
 u The words of an angel in female guise — the 
 words of Miss Waldheim.” 
 
 u What ! Ferdinand : arid these balmy, these 
 comfortable words — pray when were they heard to 
 proceed from her angelic lips ?” 
 
 “ They were addressed to me by Miss Waldheim v 
 herself, not half an hour ago.” 
 
 u Bravo ! bravissimo ! !” vociferated Mrs. Bau- 
 er, amidst loud bursts of laughter. The words 
 bi avo ! bravissimo ! ! so vigorously intonated, 
 reached the portals of Mr. Bauer’s mental percep- 
 tibilities, which, although the outward man slept, 
 were probably tracing to his happy fancy, in illusive 
 o ^ 
 
146 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 imagery, the first performance of his new opera — 
 the overture, no doubt : or perhaps, according to 
 the doctrine of some later psychologists, the calls 
 of bravo ! bravissimo ! ! so cheering at all times 
 to compositorial ears, on striking the sensorium of 
 Mr. Bauer, plunged by sleep into a complete tacet , 
 engendered, with the rapidity of an electric spark, 
 the dream most befitting the outward influential 
 cause ; acting as a sort of accompaniment thereto, 
 in the same manner as odours, long missed, will 
 swiftly carry us to scenes quite forgotten to which 
 they had been a party. 
 
 But leaving these speculations to metaphysicians 
 more skilled in dreams, the simple fact was, that 
 no sooner had the bravo ! bravissimo ! I greeted 
 the susceptible kettledrums of .Mr. Bauer’s auricu- 
 lar apparatus, and assured him of the enthusiastic 
 applause lavished on the overture he was direct- 
 ing in his dream, than he rose, as in duty bound, 
 from his elbow-chair, and, with a modest smile, 
 hands gracefully clasped towards his shirt frill, but 
 eyes still closed, made three respectfully-profound 
 obeisances in diverging angles ; oneO. P., the other 
 P. S., and the third and last towards the supposed 
 pit of critics. Whether Finette, who lay peaceably 
 reposing on a chair close by, thought she was made 
 game of, or took the profound inclinations as an 
 invitation to join in a little sport with her best 
 friend in the house, is immaterial ; she rose on 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 147 
 
 her hind-legs, and, with feline celerity, applied 
 her fanged plectrum of claws to recall her master 
 from his balmy imaginings to the realms of the ma- 
 terial world. 
 
 With her husband’s contribution to the stock of 
 merriment, Mrs. Bauer, naturally jocund, had 
 wherewith to enjoy a full display of her risible 
 powers at our conjoint expense ; and it was some 
 time before she felt capable of answering the reite- 
 rated questions of her spouse. 
 
 w The matter, my dear !” she exclaimed at last 
 in broken accents : “ oh, nothing very particular ; 
 only a young fiddler-apprentice in love with the 
 niece of His Excellency Baron von Dohm. 
 
 u What ! Miss Waldheim? you don’t say so : to 
 be sure she has always idolized music : the best pu- 
 pil I ever had, not including Ferdinand in the 
 number.” 
 
 u Oh, then it would be a thousand pities not to 
 unite for ever two such promising scholars. What 
 a progeny of musical genius we shall set our eyes 
 upon ! Methinks I hear the pretty little dears sol- 
 faing in the cradle, Do re mi fa” 
 
 “ What are you talking about, my dear ? you do 
 
 not mean surely What Fer ” 
 
 u Who else but Ferdinand Franck, the subduer, 
 the King of Hearts, the Don Giovanni of the Capi- 
 tal, the irresistible paragon of beauty and loveli- 
 ness !” 
 
148 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 “ Poor fellow ! he does not know that Miss Wald- 
 heim is pledged to Major von Dornhoff.” 
 
 u Miss Waldheim,” exclaimed Mrs. Bauer, “ is 
 as free as the air she breathes: she told him so 
 not half an hour ago.” 
 w Told whom ?” 
 
 u Ferdinand, the irresistible, to be sure 4 what 
 woman can help yielding to these languishing— 
 these bewitching looks ?” 
 
 w And has Miss Waldheim really given you any 
 hopes, Ferdinand ?” 
 
 u Not exactly hopes : yet, as I have it from her 
 own lips that she is still unfettered in her choice ; 
 as she seemed any thing but offended at my avow- 
 al, — if it were not for the serious impediment on 
 the part of her uncle, which Miss Waldheim men- 
 tioned ” 
 
 Mrs . Bauer . u Oh ! she mentioned that sad cir- 
 cumstance herself, did she ? Better and better ! in 
 terms of agonizing despair, no doubt, poor thing ! 
 Is there no way of getting over such a trifle ?” 
 
 At that moment Barbel entered with a note. 
 u It is for you, Ferdinand,” said Mr. Bauer, to 
 whom she handed it ; u and the'tlirection in Baron 
 Dohm’s hand-writing. What can this mean ?” 
 u To forbid him the house, to be sure,” exclaim- 
 ed Mrs. Bauer, singing Non pin andrai farfallone 
 amoroso. u You are agitated, Ferdinand,” said the 
 kind Mr. Bauer, pressing my hand ; i( shall I read 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 H9 
 
 it ? ‘ Baron Dohm presents his compliments to 
 
 Mr. Franck, and requests the favour’ Hur- 
 rah, Ferdinand! cheer up, my boy! c the 
 
 favour of his company’ that’s your com- 
 pany c at d rural fete at Monplaisir, on 
 
 Tuesday the 17th instant.’ Victoria ! victo- 
 
 ria //” vociferated Mr. Bauer in ecstasy, dancing 
 round the room in antic steps. “ She is yours ; 
 hai vinto la causa ! you have conquered, you rogue 
 in grain, like Julius Caesar : veni , vidi, vici . 
 These, these are the powerful — the irresistible 
 effects of our divine art ! Thou art a favourite of 
 the omnipotent goddess, Ferdinand, Go on sacri- 
 ficing at her hallowed shrine ; it is the sure path 
 to fortune, and, what is more, to immortal fame.” 
 Mrs. Bauer . u There will be an end of sacri- 
 fices, if he marries Miss Waldheim.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u How so, my good Fanny ? Have 
 I forsaken the art since our happy union ? Have 
 my productions been less numerous, less genial?” 
 Mrs. Bauer. “ We ’ll talk of them another 
 time, my good Bauer. I am contented ; and that ’s 
 enough for us both. Had Heaven blessed us with 
 a family, we might have been less happy, and your 
 musical productions less numerous and genial, I ’m 
 sure. But he this as it may, a union between 
 Ferdinand and Miss Waldheim, the heiress of 
 Baron Dohm’s vast fortune, will put an end to 
 music in a very short time. Genius, like the 
 o 3 
 
150 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 fragrant and balmy Alpine plant, thrives but ill 
 in a pampered soil.” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer’s prognostic had a sensible effect 
 upon her husband. He felt its force, and appear- 
 ed for some moments cast down by the dilemma 
 which stared him in the face. But the good man 
 belonged to that rare and enviable class of mor- 
 tals, who wish to feel happy under any circum- 
 stances ; and, so wishing, are seldom at a loss to 
 base their felicity upon arguments proffered to 
 them by an accommodating system of reasoning. 
 u Your remark, my dear girl,” he said, u like 
 most of the reasoning of your sex — excuse my 
 candour — -has considerable plausibility on the sur- 
 face, but is fallacious at bottom. The precious 
 and rare plant of Genius, I agree with you, is 
 seldom brought forth in a rich and luxuriant soil ; 
 and if our Ferdinand be fortunate enough to be- 
 long to that enviable class, his humble origin and 
 history, to the present time, sufficiently attest the 
 truth of the observation. He , surely, has not 
 been brought forth and reared in the lap of plenty. 
 But you seem to forget, my excellent girl, that 
 the tree is reared, and advancing towards healthy 
 maturity. The question, therefore, appears to be, 
 whether its farther growth would be more luxuri- 
 ant, its fruit more abundant and luscious, if left 
 in its native arid and barren waste, than if trans- 
 ferred to a more genial and nourishing soil ? This 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 151 
 
 is the way of putting the question, my dear ; and 
 I ’m sure it carries its own answer, and its appli- 
 cation too. Ferdinand is about to step into a 
 princely fortune ” 
 
 Mrs . Bauer . u Oh, that ’s a settled matter ? 
 well then, step away, Ferdinand; just raise one 
 leg, take care you don’t slip.” 
 
 Self. “ Would it were so certain as Mr. 
 Bauer’s kindness imagines it to be !” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. 66 I entertain but little doubt on 
 the subject. At all events, I put the case for argu- 
 ment’s sake ; and such is my firm belief in your 
 enthusiasm for the art, Ferdinand, that I feel con- 
 fident the possession of affluence, and of a girl so 
 highly gifted and so passionately devoted to the 
 same pursuit, instead of paralyzing your exertions, 
 will only act as a spur to more strenuous and 
 noble efforts. Labouring for fame, and not for 
 bread, your works may be few ; but they will be 
 the more classic — more certain to hand down your 
 name to posterity.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer, in proceeding with the thread of 
 his discourse, illustrated his position by referring 
 to a variety of poets, painters, sculptors, and 
 even composers, who, amidst the smiles of fortune, 
 and surrounded by affluence, had produced master- 
 pieces in their line ; and the dissertation on so 
 favourite a topic might have extended to an in- 
 convenient length, had not the clock announced 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 U c 2 
 
 the hour at which he never failed to present him- 
 self at the Cafe des Beaux Esprits , not only to join 
 certain friends, as regular as himself, at billiards — 
 a game in which he delighted and excelled, but also 
 to hear, no less than to impart, any news which 
 the annals of the capital might have furnished 
 during the last four and twenty hours. Commu- 
 nicative as he was in his disposition, Mrs. Bauer 
 very prudently enjoined silence on the subject 
 which had engaged our afternoon’s discussion. 
 
 40 . 
 
 MONANDB.IA AND CRYPTOGAMICS. 
 
 The happy spouse had no sooner left the room, 
 than Mrs. Bauer seriously entered upon the topic 
 of my unforeseen and u unfortunate” attachment. 
 There was something so kindly persuasive in her 
 address to me, and the motive of her interference 
 was so truly friendly, that she gradually succeeded 
 in learning the most minute particulars of the 
 morning’s interview with Amelia. Mrs. Bauer 
 was pleased on finding matters less advanced and 
 promising on the side of Miss Waldheim than 
 what she had at first been led to surmise ; al- 
 though she blamed her conduct, for entering into 
 any explanation at all with me, under circumstances 
 which excluded the slightest ray of hope, both on 
 the side of the uncle and Amelia herself, as she 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 153 
 
 had distinctly declared that she felt no partiality 
 for me or any one else. 
 
 “ And there,” added Mrs. Bauer, “ she has told 
 you the plain truth. She has had several very 
 assiduous admirers belonging to our first families ; 
 and after amusing them, or rather diverting her- 
 self with them, for a while, they had, each in his 
 turn, notice to quit. The Major has persevered 
 the longest, and the encouragement she has given 
 him warranted a belief that his suit would termi- 
 nate successfully, although I knew her too well 
 not to have my doubts ; and from your information, 
 these doubts, then, are fully confirmed. — I have 
 the highest opinion of Miss Waldheim’s mental 
 qualifications and accomplishments. They are of 
 a superior order — for her, perhaps, unfortunately 
 so : she is more head than heart. Without mean- 
 ing to offend you, Ferdinand, I look upon her to 
 be unsusceptible of true feeling, and incapable of 
 love.” 
 
 u You would think otherwise, had you heard 
 her sing Porgi Amove this morning.” 
 
 u Mere imitation, mimickry — mere head-work. 
 She is too clever and acute, not to portray to the 
 life what she has observed in others : she excels 
 in whatever she undertakes. To her force in mu- 
 sic you are no stranger. In painting she is nearly 
 as skilful ; and she is not particularly nice in the 
 choice of her subjects. At our last exhibition she 
 
154 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 had a Venus rising from the bosom of the waves, 
 done in oil; and a sketch in bistre for a future 
 painting, representing Perseus liberating Andro- 
 meda from the grasp of the Sea-monster. This 
 latter was admired by all the gentlemen-connois- 
 seurs.” 
 
 u No wonder her divine mind grasps equally 
 all the fine arts !” 
 
 u Oh ! hut the sciences too, and the dead lan- 
 guages ; Miss Waldheim prides herself on her La- 
 tin ! Perhaps you don’t know that she is an 
 adept in chemistry. There ’s her laboratory at 
 Baron Dohm’s, which is a perfect nuisance to the 
 neighbours ; and proved particularly so last au- 
 tumn, when she gave a course of lectures to some 
 ten or a dozen female friends, most of whom, how- 
 ever, were soon put to flight by the smell of the 
 gaseous and other experimental preparations. One 
 had her eyelashes and eyebrows singed by an ex- 
 plosion of inflammable air; and the few who 
 stayed were known all the rest of the days of lec- 
 ture by the atmosphere which accompanied them. 
 One actually lost by it a handsome young man 
 who had paid his addresses in good earnest, but 
 whose delicate olfactory nerves took umbrage at 
 the unsavoury chemical effluvia.” 
 
 u You colour strongly, Mrs. Bauer. But your 
 account of Amelia’s indefatigable mental pursuits 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 155 
 
 only increases my veneration. The more the bet- 
 ter. Music, painting, chemistry.” 
 
 “ Add botany, if you please. Two years ago 
 botany was the rage ; and day after day, rain or 
 sunshine, Miss Waldheim was seen, like a wood- 
 nymph, roaming over hill and dale by the side of 
 young Count Hademar, the favourite of the day, 
 
 collecting simples and ” 
 
 u Not by themselves ?” 
 
 “ No ; they had mostly a donkey, I believe, to 
 carry the bundles of monandrias and cryptoga- 
 mics, as she called them when exhibiting her 
 herbarium. — You appear staggered, alarmed, Fer- 
 dinand. Fear nought : that too was all head-work 
 — on her part, at least, I will answer for it ; her 
 heart had no interest in these rustic rambles.” 
 u But Baron Dohm, surel y . — .the opinion of 
 the world ” 
 
 u For the latter, my good Ferdinand, Miss 
 Waldheim cares not a straw ; and as for Baron 
 Dohm, she may do just what she pleases, except 
 marrying a plebeian : his strict aristocratic ideas 
 alone would be quite sufficient to render him in- 
 flexible on this point, without the melancholy fate 
 of Miss W'aldheim’s own parents, which I am sure 
 will ever act as a warning to the uncle. It is a 
 sad story, told in a few words The young Ba- 
 roness Dohm, of more inflammable organization^ 
 
156 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 no doubt, than Miss Waldheim, had the misfor- 
 tune to be captivated at a ball by the graceful 
 figure and address of a young officer of dragoons : 
 an intimacy ensued ; proposals were made to the 
 parents, but spurned with disdain, because Lieu- 
 tenant Waldheim, although of respectable parents, 
 was not of noble birth. The family possessed in- 
 fluence enough to transfer poor Waldheim soon 
 afterwards to another regiment on the frontiers ; 
 and the old Baroness was not idle in looking out 
 for a more eligible son-in-law. It was not long 
 before a noble swain presented himself. The in- 
 treaties, prayers, and tears of the intended victim 
 were unavailing ; the day of her nuptials was an- 
 nounced to her, when she declared herself to be 
 the wife of Waldheim. You may conceive the 
 stupefaction, the rage of the family ! The chap- 
 lain, Waldheim’s friend, who had united them, 
 fled in time : the poor husband was arraigned be- 
 fore a court-martial, and sentenced to imprison- 
 ment for life, if I am not mistaken ; and the young 
 Baroness, although in an advanced state of preg- 
 nancy, was hurried from the capital to the soli- 
 tary cottage of a ranger in the Spessart Forest. 
 There she gave birth to Amelia, and fell a victim 
 to grief and despair; and poor Waldheim, on 
 hearing the sad tidings, threw himself headlong 
 from the top of his prison. Remorse now visited 
 the parents ; the infant was nursed as a precious 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 157 
 
 treasure, in atonement for the persecution of the 
 authors of its life. The old Baron died a few 
 years afterwards, and was soon followed by his 
 wife. Their vast property descended to their only 
 son, the Baron Dohm you have seen, who, child- 
 less himself, took his niece under his protection, 
 educated her, and spared no expense or care to 
 render her one of the most accomplished females 
 in the country. Amelia is his idol, and will in- 
 herit all he possesses, provided, as I have already 
 mentioned, she marries a noble ; the selection of 
 whom, however, the uncle entirely leaves to her 
 own choice. And I ought to add, for your informa- 
 tion, Ferdinand, that such is her attachment and 
 veneration for Baron Dohm, and such the since- 
 rity of her character, that I am convinced she 
 would rather remain single, than imitate the ex- 
 ample of her mother, or unite herself to any man 
 not approved of by her second father.” 
 u She has told me as much herself.” 
 u Why, then, Ferdinand, indulge in chimerical 
 hopes which can only lead to disappointment and 
 to the destruction of all your future prospects ; 
 and the pursuit of which, if successful, must 
 entail misery on the object of your affections ?” 
 u Not if I obtain the uncle’s consent. This 
 note encourages a hope that he may not prove in- 
 exorable in a matter which so nearly concerns the 
 happiness of his niece.” 
 
 p 
 
158 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 u Who, you should add, told you in plain terms 
 that she felt no sort of relish for the felicity you 
 intend for her.” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer in vain exerted her eloquence for 
 some time longer, to dissuade me from any farther 
 connexion with Amelia ; and when she found all 
 her oratorical efforts unavailing, she left the room, 
 observing, that, in my present state of mental illu- 
 sion and infatuation, I was totally unfit to listen 
 to sober reasoning, and that she would therefore 
 await a more propitious opportunity to save me, if 
 possible, from the abyss of wretchedness into which 
 I seemed determined to plunge headlong. 
 
 41 . 
 
 LESSONS AND INEXPRESSIBLES. 
 
 The God of Love is frequently represented as 
 bereft of vision ; surely he must be as deaf as he 
 is blind. In fact, love is a state of mental de- 
 rangement — a brain-fever, a phrenzy, paralysis of 
 the functions of our senses, and a suspension of 
 the healthy operations of our understanding ; and 
 it is perhaps only owing to the universality of the 
 disease, and a consequent fellow-feeling, that its 
 victims escape the straight jacket and incarcera- 
 tion. When the paroxysm is passed, we often 
 look back blushingly and with astonishment upon 
 the period of our mental aberration; and the only 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 159 
 
 consolation we can muster is, that others have 
 made as great fools of themselves as we, and that 
 the wisest have had their fits as bad and worse 
 than the neutral ordinaries of our race. 
 
 Great stress has been laid upon the indispen- 
 sability of the aforesaid complaint, which is ge- 
 nerally considered as a necessary evil for the good 
 of our species. But this argument falls to the 
 ground, when we cast a glance at the grave and 
 rational Turk, and numerous other Oriental na- 
 tions, who obtain their wives without ever setting 
 eyes upon them, or hearing as much as the sound 
 of their voice, before marriage, and who, conse- 
 quently, escape the brain-fever so universal in 
 Christian countries. It is true, these Levanters, 
 while exempt from the disorder, are by way of 
 balance subjected to the visitation of the plague: 
 but for the latter there are remedies and quaran- 
 tines ; while our Christian complaint is almost in- 
 curable, and the cure but too often worse than the 
 disease. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer’s long sermon, instead of diminish- 
 ing the symptoms, like scanty drops of water thrown 
 on a blazing fire, only increased the force of the 
 complaint. I read and read again the cheering 
 note of Amelia’s uncle ; the paper, although com- 
 mon octavo foolscap, seemed to breathe heavenly 
 perfume ; kisses by proxy were imprinted on the 
 dear sheet of rag paste, for it surely had passed 
 
160 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 through Amelia’s hands ; and an answer, couched 
 in superbly grateful terms, was forthwith penned, 
 to convey my acceptance 44 of the honour of the 
 Baron’s condescending invitation.” 
 
 But fleeting are the moments of our content- 
 ment, and the transitions the more grating, when 
 lofty and noble conceptions of bliss are interrupted 
 by low and absolutely physical impediments to the 
 full enjoyment of our fancied happiness. The new 
 suit I wore, however reputable, was little, or at 
 least but partially, calculated to introduce me 
 among the grandees I was to join at Monplaisir. 
 The want of a miserable pair of silk pantaloons 
 put a stop to the enviable exuberance of medi- 
 tative felicities. — Innumerable ways and means, 
 some ridiculous, others not altogether creditable, 
 were proposed and rejected; I Cursed at one time 
 the refinement in civilization which hid the divine 
 human form in coverings pilfered from the brute 
 creation, and envied the Ethiopian, who can fear- 
 lessly present himself as his Creator fashioned 
 him, in the first circles of Wangarrah or Tim- 
 buctoo. — But the omnipotent divinity of the brain- 
 fever was not to be baffled by a pair of pantaloons : 
 a thought, as if by inspiration, flashed through my 
 mind ; and some objections on the score of strict 
 correctness being arbitrarily silenced, I forthwith 
 proceeded to the execution of the happy expedient. 
 
 44 A pair of silk pantaloons?” exclaimed my 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 161 
 
 Hebrew friend, Mr. Aaron Benzheimer, with a 
 wondering smile, from behind the oracular fence of 
 his well-worn glossy counter, enriched with sun- 
 dry spurious numismatic specimens which, in the 
 course of his long dealings, his honesty had con- 
 demned to be nailed to the board for everlasting 
 exposure. u A pair of silks ? I am rejoiced to see 
 my worthy and excellent young friend finding his 
 way into great society: an evening party, no 
 doubt. Counsellor Rippell’s, next Friday, I dare 
 say ; he is a great amateur, and his daughters are 
 reckoned vastly clever; rather slow in his pay- 
 ments, between us, Mr. Franck ” 
 
 66 1 never heard of the man’s name before : but 
 I’m in a hurry, Mr. Benzheimer ; let us come to 
 terms.” 
 
 u Who, then, may be the worthy gentleman who 
 has honoured my good friend with his notice ?” 
 u No matter who — let ’s proceed.” 
 u No secret, 1 presume ; not between friends at 
 least. The prophet Ezekiel says, ‘Empty thy 
 heart into the lap of thy friend, and thou shalt 
 find comfort.’ ” 
 
 “ And King Solomon has it, 6 He that search- 
 eth into the hidden thought of his neighbour, doth 
 labour for trouble !’ ” 
 
 M I don’t mind trouble, my dear Mr. Franck, 
 when it is for your sake ! Perhaps you are going 
 to be presented to His Royal Highness our most 
 r 3 
 
1G2 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 gracious Sovereign ? — No ? — Well, that ’s comical 
 to be so close ! — Not that I am curious ; but I feel 
 an interest in whatever concerns my young Wal- 
 bach hero ! Look ye, Mr. Franck, I would this 
 instant cut you the stuff at half cost ; you shall 
 have it for nothing — if you will but make a friend 
 of your best friend. There, you want just two 
 ells and three-quarters.” 
 
 u Hold, Sir ! let ’s agree about the terms, before 
 you wield the scissars. You once or twice ex- 
 pressed a wish that I would attend your daughter 
 in her music. Not being in cash at this time, 
 1 am ready to give my services in return for your 
 goods.” 
 
 u ’Tis a bargain, Mr. Franck ! My Esther will 
 be delighted ; she has many a time spoken about 
 it : she has such a wonderful taste for the music, 
 she plays more notes in a minute than you would 
 be able to count, if you looked ever so sharp, for 
 all she has half a dozen or more rings on her fin- 
 gers : she plays the piano that you might hear a 
 fly walk ; and when she does the fort , ’tis as if 
 you heard all the bells of the city close to your 
 ears. To be sure I have spared no expense ; I 
 paid the best price, a florin a lesson — a florin, Mr. 
 Franck, besides presents ; and all her music-books 
 are bound in red morocco, with gold titles. At 
 this moment you ’ll find her a little out of prac- 
 tice, having till lately been without a proper in- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 163 
 
 strument. The one she had before, I sold to Ba- 
 ron Dohm, for his niece, who is the first player in 
 our capital.” 
 
 44 For Miss Waldheim ?” 
 
 44 To be sure, Mr. Franck ; when she heard my 
 Esther play, nothing would do for her but Esther’s 
 grand piano ! 4 Aaron,’ says the Baron, when he 
 
 sent for me, 4 can you get my niece an instru- 
 ment like yours ?’ — 4 Why not, your Excellency ? 
 hut if your Excellency has a mind, I ’ll sell 
 you mine, and write for another.’ — 4 1 be- 
 lieve, ’ says the Baron, 4 you would sell your 
 soul, Aaron, if there was a bidder for it !’*— 
 4 And so I would, if it was to serve your Excels 
 lency!’ — 4 Aaron,’ says the Baron, 4 you are a 
 sly rogue.’ — Says I, 4 May I never be a rogue in 
 a worse cause!’ — That’s the way, my good Mr. 
 Franck, to treat such great people when they are 
 your friends ! — . That ’s the way to keep them 
 your friends. A good fire wants stirring at times, 
 and fresh wood ; and if you let it go too low, all 
 the puffing and blowing will not get it up again ! 
 So I sent the Baron Esther’s instrument that 
 same day, with the maker’s account ; and when he 
 sent me the amount, I went back with sixteen 
 louis in my pocket ! — 4 What’s that for, Aaron ?’ 
 — 4 Your Excellency paid ready cash ; so did I, 
 and I got twenty per cent, discount, which, for 
 all I may be a Jew and a sly rogue, would trou- 
 
164 
 
 FERDINAND FRAN Civ. 
 
 ble my sleep, if I kept them in my house for one 
 night. There might be a small matter of interest 
 coming to me— -ten florins and a half, as near as 
 possible : but there is wear and tear of the instru- 
 ment on the other side; and so we are quits, if 
 your Excellency is satisfied !’ — What do you think 
 of my way of doing business, Mr. Franck, hey ?” 
 
 66 Upright, strictly honourable !” 
 
 66 Honourable, my dear Sir, and profitable into 
 the bargain ! I did not lose by it, I promise you. 
 In less than two months, three new squadrons 
 were added to our chevaux legers . Having by me 
 fifty or sixty pieces of blue cloth, which the Prus- 
 sians left on my hands, I lost no time in waiting 
 on my very good friend, Baron Dohm: he re- 
 commends me to the President of the War De- 
 partment, which procures for me the contract for 
 all the clothing. A fresh dip or* two changes my 
 blues into the most beautiful green ; His Royal 
 Highness the Grand Duke declares his men were 
 never better dressed ; and 1 put in my pocket four 
 thousand and odd guilders clear profit, for all I 
 had to treat every clerk in the War Department 
 
 with a new suit by way of good-will You see, 
 
 Mr. Franck, what good friends can do.” 
 
 u The friendship of such a man as Baron Dohm, 
 
 and of his lovely, his angelic niece ” 
 
 “ Is like the manna in the desert — sweet and 
 nourishing. lie is every thing at court, and I am 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 165 
 
 every thing with the Baron ; and as you are 
 my friend, Mr. Franck, I ’ll take the very first 
 opportunity to speak a word in your favour. If 
 you would but give up the music — there ’s no- 
 thing to be done for a musician, and you ’ll never 
 be one, take my word for it — you are cut out for 
 greater things. In less than six months I could 
 get you a situation which would make you a 
 great man in time — in a short time, I say. Bless 
 me, Mr. Franck ! such a face and figure as yours, 
 if you know what you are about, must do the bu- 
 siness with the ladies, and that ’s half the battle 
 in getting forward. I can assure you, you are 
 much noticed here, without your knowing it, and 
 I have been asked a good deal about you.” 
 
 Mr. Benzheimer continued for some time long- 
 er in this oratorical vein of eulogy and prudent 
 advice in worldly matters. Sincere and well- 
 meant as I knew the latter to be, and flattering as 
 the former proved to my stock of youthful vanity, 
 I suffered him to proceed, until an opportunity 
 presented itself for asking when I should com- 
 mence my course of tuition with Miss Esther. 
 
 u Whenever you please, Mr. Franck; a good 
 thing can never be set about too soon : that ’s a 
 rule of mine — a golden rule in business — 4 What ’s 
 done to-day, need not be done to-morrow for 
 time is a sad hand at dealing upon tick : nothing 
 like the time present. So that, if it is perfectly 
 
166 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 convenient, Esther is up stairs, and I can answer 
 for her readiness to make a beginning this very- 
 instant; but we must have a glass of Johannis- 
 berger first, to soften and nourish the voice. 
 
 42 . 
 
 THE BIRTHDAY ODE. 
 
 We found Miss Esther and her mother sedu- 
 lously at work upon a frame of embroidered tapes- 
 try. The former, in rising to receive me, appeared 
 more handsome and interesting than usual — all 
 attention and politeness in her way. At any 
 other time, 4 the bump in the nape’ would have 
 been in his element ; but it was manifest on the 
 present occasion that the aforesaid protuberance is 
 but a subordinate agent, dependent on the control 
 of a nobler organ — the heart, which just then own- 
 ed another tenant. I almost regretted, on seeing the 
 beautiful, the anticipating daughter of Israel, that 
 love, the selfish occupant in possession, should so 
 completely have filled every space, as not to leave 
 some standing-room at least for the lovely Oriental 
 brunette. But no ! love is one and indivisible, 
 like the defunct French republic — not a subject 
 for Joint Stock Companies or share-holders. Uni- 
 ty is its stern fundamental law ; on more than one 
 no human being can boast, if boast it were, to 
 have placed his affections simultaneously. Even 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 167 
 
 Captain Macheath, in the English drama, al- 
 though not particularly sentimental, could not 
 cleverly fancy Polly and Lucy at the same time. 
 The above remark is any thing but new ; yet the 
 fact is not the less strange and difficult of explana- 
 tion, and, as I take it, shows a defect, an imper- 
 fection, in the human organization. We have 
 more than one favourite dish ; one man loves 
 painting and music with equal fervour ; we may 
 even possess more than one bosom friend : but 
 love (perhaps from the unity of its bump, whilst 
 most other organs have two, at least,) is an egotist, 
 a monocrat, a very tyrant in selfishness; and 
 therefore Miss Esther’s black and scintillating 
 eyes, the pearly teeth behind their roseate chas- 
 ing, the jet lustre of her tresses, yea, the signifi- 
 cance and smiling archness of her Levantine coun- 
 tenance, — were but ombres chinoises , conveying 
 pleasing but transient impressions ; a circumstance 
 which, to be candid, I at this moment remember 
 to have regretted as much as the bon vivant be- 
 wails his inability to add the enjoyment of an un- 
 expected dainty to the numerous good things with 
 which he has improvidently satiated his appetite. 
 
 No sooner had Miss Benzheimer touched the 
 few complimentary chords, usually termed Pre- 
 lude, than her papa made an apology for the 
 hired piano-forte ; as his new instrument of rose- 
 wood, which he had ordered from Vienna, and in 
 
168 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCtt. 
 
 which the sharps were to be amber, and the na- 
 turals of mother of pearl, had not yet made its 
 appearance. In the vocal specimen with which 
 she now made her debut , innumerable shakes, 
 and other luxuriances of decoration, bespoke that 
 exuberance of nervous feeling and sensitiveness 
 which forms a characteristic of the children of 
 Israel, who fancy nothing is well that is not bet- 
 ter than good: but the timbre of Miss Esther’s 
 voice, a mezzo soprano not unfrequent in bru- 
 nettes, possessed that mellow, deep-toned fulness, 
 the very reverse of feminine shrillness, which acts 
 powerfully on the feelings, and exerts irresistible 
 fascination upon our sex. My praise was sincere ; 
 and the delighted sire begged I would sing a 
 “ duvett” with his daughter. Our performance 
 moved him to tears ; even old Mrs. Benzheimer 
 dropped her needle and worsted upon the frame, 
 raised her spectacles to give admission to a coarse 
 and not recent pocket-handkerchief, and exclaim- 
 ed, u Very fine !” 
 
 “Very fine! Salomeh,” said Mr. Benzheimer: 
 u superfine ! and better than that, my dear. It is 
 as if a nightingale sat on one branch, and a bull- 
 finch upon the other close by. They sing as if 
 they had sung together all the days of their life. 
 They shall sing this duvett at the court concert ; 
 and I lay a hundred ? ducats His Royal Highness 
 the Grand Duke will call out bravo ! and encore ! 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 169 
 
 before they get half through it. I say, Esther, 
 where is the song composed for your last birth- 
 day ? 
 
 “ That ’s it,” continued Mr. Benzheimer, on 
 seeing his daughter draw from a double wrapper 
 of silver paper a slender volume bound in blue 
 satin. “ ’Tis a present from her former master, 
 Mr. Katzenberger, the organist of St. Ursula’s, 
 who knows how to throw at hams with sausages, 
 as the saying is ; for he had a superfine new 
 beaver in return, which stands me in fourteen 
 florins prime cost — money enough, in conscience, 
 for a few black dots with tails to them. But it is 
 very pretty, I must say ; particularly where it says 
 6 a generous parent’s just delight;* and that 
 you are, my pretty little Essy, and always will be, 
 I ’m sure.” 
 
 However powerful the exertions of 66 my pretty 
 little Essy” in chanting the praises of herself and 
 tutta la famiglia , the sounds were lost upon me. 
 u A Birthday Ode !” said I to myself ; 66 Ame- 
 lia’s birthday on Tuesday ! !” — Charming thought ! 
 “ The first gifts of the earth were dedicated to the 
 gods by the pious husbandman ; to thee, my 
 heavenly Amelia, shall be devoted, in humble of- 
 fering, the first fruit of thy worshipper’s Muse. 
 Poetry and music ! The task is arduous, but 
 love will inspire my pen : thy image, Amelia, will 
 fire my breast; I shall soar above the level of 
 o. 
 
170 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 common efforts, in greeting the day which gave 
 life to the life of my soul !” 
 
 Amid these exalted musings, vastly above proof, 
 how was it possible to hear a note of the beavered 
 strains of Mr. Katzenberger, the organist of St. 
 Ursula’s? Some ideas, in fact, and some bars 
 too, of the projected Birthday Ode, began already 
 to form themselves involuntarily in embryo ; and I 
 am afraid I left my good friend and my new 
 pupil in rather an abrupt and unceremonious 
 manner, in order to poetize sans gene , and in due 
 solitude, up stairs in my sloping garret at Mr. 
 Bauer’s, in spite of its chilling temperature, to 
 which the poetic fire and fervour within rendered 
 my outward man very indifferent and insensible. 
 
 Although in this ecstatic trim, and replete with 
 a mass of elevated, nay, sublime thoughts, con- 
 densed into a state of high pressure bordering 
 upon explosion, the sluggish pen, to my utter 
 astonishment, gave birth to nothing hut abortions. 
 Not an entire line had come forth, when Barbel’s 
 shrill and unpoetic voice called me to supper. 
 Knife and fork moved in vain, in cadenced mea- 
 sure, upon the pewter plate, like the hammers 
 upon the anvil of Pythagoras. Monosyllabic and 
 preposterous were the answers Mr. and Mrs. 
 Bauer received to their ill-timed questions. How 
 tantalizing ! thought I to myself : so much with- 
 in — a store so rich, so pregnant— and yet nothing 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 171 
 
 coming forth I It was only in the still solitude of 
 my pillow, that the mental floodgates seemed to 
 open, to give vent to the chaotic fermenting mass 
 of poetic atoms. Stanza after stanza now kindly 
 and- briskly ranged itself, like platoons on a 
 parade ; no mnemonic expedient was neglected to 
 secure their recollection, as there was no light 
 whereby to commit them to paper; and the carmen 
 natale must have approached its completion, when 
 sleep came to put an end, not to the inspiration — 
 for that worked on marvellously in the flimsy 
 realm of unembodied existence — but to the con- 
 scious and controllable operations of my reasoning 
 
 powers. I dreamed Nay, gentle reader, that 
 
 dream, delightful as it was, and delightful as it 
 would be to read, thou must dispense with, the 
 publisher not having room for it. I dreamed, 
 and I awoke with the powerful octave-treble of 
 Barbel again in my ears, announcing breakfast ; 
 when my first thought was to pass in review the 
 effective force of the poetical platoons which not 
 eight hours ago had manoeuvred with such skill 
 and precision. Alas ! like the gaudy French bat- 
 talions marshalled on the morning of the conflict 
 of Rosbach, and scattered before sun-set by the 
 Prussian eagle, aided of course by the extermina- 
 ting Hussar sabre of my friend and patron the 
 gallant Baron Wolditz, whose queue , as the reader 
 is already informed, paid the forfeit of its owner’s 
 
m 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 temerity — like those hostile bodies, driven to 
 flight, so were my new poetical levies, whilom 
 so fair and compact, dispersed and scattered into 
 air in the space of one short night. Like the 
 broken tumbrils, dismounted cannon, hats, hel- 
 mets, and havresacks, a “ tender flame,” a “ har- 
 rowed soul,” or a “ blissful hour,” might be 
 picked up here and there — wrecks unfit for ser- 
 vice, incapable of being embodied again. The 
 poem was lost to the world, and I lost in despair. 
 
 43 . 
 
 THE MAGIC MIRROR. 
 
 My downcast looks and broken spirits at break- 
 fast naturally led to a conversation on the subject 
 of my attachment to Miss Waldheim ; Mr. Bauer 
 being on the side of the yeas, and his spouse main- 
 taining the negative. In any other connubial 
 establishment, this diversity of opinion might have 
 led to serious verbal conflict ; but Mrs. Bauer— * 
 I beg the reader will believe it — possessed an ines- 
 timable quality, a heavenly gift, the more pre- 
 cious as it is uncommon; — Mrs. Bauer never con- 
 tradicted her husband, when she saw his mind 
 made up on a question ; she left him to his own 
 way of thinking, and merely acted according to 
 hers— thereby avoiding a world of controversies, as 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 173 
 
 unprofitable before any measure, as they are use- 
 less and unavailing after the thing is done. 
 
 Under these circumstances, the conversation, in- 
 stead of assuming the legitimate form of a duet— 
 my part was a mere facet , as may be supposed — 
 proved to be next to a solo ; in which Mr. Bauer 
 executed a number of bravura passages of argu- 
 mentative eloquence nem . con. unrelieved by any 
 tutti , until he arrived at a full cadence, when he 
 brilliantly and strikingly wound up his theme in 
 the key in which he had set out, took hat and 
 stick, and went to the rehearsal. 
 
 No sooner had Mr. Bauer made his exit, than 
 Mrs. Bauer, who had listened in demure silence to 
 his solo, but whose motto was any thing but silen - 
 tium est approbation felt an urgent want of indem- 
 nifying herself for her previous taciturnity, by a 
 full and comprehensive review of the hopelessness 
 and the obviously sinister consequences of my 
 “ ill-judged” attachment to Amelia ; — as if judg- 
 ment had any thing to do in love affairs ! If it 
 had, what would become of the human race, but 
 a converging series with a proper fraction for its 
 ratio. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer had already said a great deal on 
 this subject ; infinitely more, indeed, than what was 
 sufficient, or can be necessary for the reader’s in- 
 formation. But that was no reason why the good 
 a 3 
 
174 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK^ 
 
 lady should not say as much more, even if it were 
 the same things over and over again. Ladies 
 seldom think they have said enough ; and even 
 when they think so, and have concluded, farther 
 ebullient supplements are put in, by way of over- 
 weight, somewhat like the few straggling ran- 
 dom shots heard after a simultaneous discharge of 
 musketry, which ex post facto pops are not with- 
 out their effect. The stronger sex endeavours to 
 convince and persuade by pointed and forcible rea- 
 soning; while the fairer portion of the creation, 
 although wielding weapons of less powerful qua- 
 lity, seldom fails to attain its object by the quan- 
 tity and number of its minor missiles, and by a 
 constant repetition of discharges — a fire well kept 
 up, as the military phrase is. A great bullet doth 
 great execution, $o it hit the mark, which is a 
 great chance ; but that same ounce of lead, fired 
 off in small shot, if it do not deal out absolute de- 
 struction, seldom fails of winging or otherwise 
 disabling its object. 
 
 This autobiographical sketch not being of the 
 feminine gender, the author feels warranted in 
 suppressing Mrs. Bauer’s da capos. But amidst 
 the themes varies , new motives, vastly heterodox, 
 were introduced to enforce conviction. 
 
 u You are young, Ferdinand,” said she; u there 
 is abundance of time yet to think of attachments ; 
 and when the proper period arrives, a face and 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 175 
 
 figure like yours — don’t be vain — will find no dif- 
 ficulty in commanding a choice. The capital 
 teems with pretty lasses.* * 
 
 44 All the world contains but one Amelia !” 
 
 4fc And all the world contains not another elbow- 
 chair precisely like that you now occupy; but 
 there are thousands and thousands in which you 
 may rest your bones quite as comfortably. What 
 is the difference in female charms ? The difference 
 between one leaf and the other on the same tree ; 
 the difference of dozens of blues in a tailor’s pat- 
 tern-card — one a shade lighter, the other deeper, 
 a little bloom more or less, that ’s all ; a little 
 wear, and the bloom will be gone, and the blues 
 will be the same. Look at that picture over the 
 piano, and look at its original. It is not ten 
 years ago since I sat for it.” 
 
 44 The comparison is singularly unfortunate for 
 the purpose intended.” 
 
 44 We take^ we take, Mr. Tempter; perhaps I 
 may have stood tolerably that particular period. 
 But let ’s add another ten, and another. Nay, to 
 steer clear of your courteousness, allow me to 
 introduce you to — Miss Waldheim, or whatever 
 her name may be forty years hence. Have you the 
 courage to look into the magic mirror of futurity ? 
 Behold, then, the fat and portly double-chinned 
 dame, tottering forth breathless upon doric but 
 misgiving pedestals, with alien ringlets ill conceal 
 
176 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 mg the gray stubble ; alien optics ill aiding the 
 dwindled, sunken, and lifeless eye ; a reedy voice, 
 stumbling over dental chasms like the wind howl- 
 ing through the ruinous pinnacles of a mouldering 
 
 tower. Behold ” 
 
 “ No more, Mrs. Bauer, I beseech you ! — stay 
 your pencil dipt in gall.” 
 
 u Dipt in truth, in Nature’s own colours. Some 
 years more or less make a sad havoc of equality 
 among us; the difference, then, between the 
 toasted beauty and ill-favoured old maid is not 
 worth mentioning, and often even in favour of 
 the latter.” 
 
 “ Mrs. Bauer, it seems, measures the worth of 
 her sex by the standard of physical attractions ; 
 the mind, of course, goes for nothing.” 
 
 “ The mind, Ferdinand ? It shall go for what 
 it will fetch, by all means ; but, unfortunately, it 
 follows so closely the example of its more sub- 
 stantial travelling companion, that if the commo- 
 dity be long on hand we shall make quite as sorry 
 a bargain of it. The spirited, the intellectual, 
 the genial divinity you adore — shall we steal a 
 march upon time, and give her a call forty years 
 hence ? — Gone to chapel in a sedan — call again—* 
 a lecture upon the frivolity of the present genera- 
 tion of mundane pursuits in general, by way of 
 prelude ; after which our good old lady enters 
 into particulars, a catalogue raisonne , of the fail- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 177 
 
 ings of her friends and acquaintances, bitter com- 
 plaints of the treatment from her nearest rela- 
 tions, and their wanton wastefulness. A new 
 story, told hundreds of times before, occasionally 
 varies the entertaining converse. Her memory is 
 gone ; and she misnames all recent acquaintances, 
 and blunders in all dates : but she recollects and 
 gives you a particular account of last night’s most 
 singular and awful dream — a pointed warning to- 
 wards regeneration and a new life, as expounded 
 to her by a saintly brother, whom alone, and the 
 skilful physician that humours and quacks her 
 imaginary disorders, she excepts from the univer- 
 sal anathema against her fellow-beings. All im- 
 pose upon and cheat the good old lady ; nothing 
 but her strict parsimoniousness keeps ruin from 
 her threshold ; — she saves every old cork ; the seal 
 of every letter contributes its mite to a second- 
 hand stick of wax; the bones of every picked 
 chicken are carefully preserved for next day’s 
 broth ; the wine to be given to a friend ” 
 
 u Enough, enough, my dear Mrs. Bauer, to 
 display your talent for humour and caricature, but 
 too little to sever my heart from Amelia : if we 
 both live to an age of such infirmity, time will 
 have trained us to bear each other’s failings. Be- 
 sides, your argument would go to dissuade from 
 wedlock altogether.” 
 
 u By no means. All I wish to prove is, the 
 
178 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 folly of your persisting in a choice which will ren- 
 der you miserable, and that the difference between 
 your adorable Amelia and a hundred others more 
 likely to render you happy is not worth the sacri- 
 fice of your future prospects and welfare.” 
 
 The above fragment of Mrs. Bauer’s rhetorical 
 efforts on the present occasion will probably be 
 sufficient for the reader’s edification. She meant 
 well, and her exertions u to save me from ruin” 
 were strenuous and unceasing. But love is not to 
 be argued out of love. The flame burnt the 
 fiercer for the blast which was meant for its ex- 
 tinction. 
 
 My carmen natale , however, with all these dis- 
 cussions, and the consequent distractions of my 
 poetical brain, made little or no advances ; and I 
 had nearly given up in despair the idea of all far- 
 ther poetizing, when, as I stood after dinner at 
 Mrs. Bauer’s window, the carriage of Baron Dohm 
 passed by, with Amelia and her uncle in the back 
 seat. She espied me, and with a smiling look of 
 what I construed into angelic kindness waved her 
 hand. 
 
 u The ode ! the ode !” said I to myself in ecsta- 
 tic rapture ; “ the ode, now or never !” The po- 
 etic spark seemed in intense ignition — the poem 
 itself might be said to be in embryo existence ; it 
 wanted but the obstetric aid of a goose-quill. But 
 there was a something in the house of Mrs. Bauer 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 170 
 
 which seemed to mar and bewilder all my 
 thoughts. I had read of Homer, or some other 
 Greek poet, inditing his verses on the lonely 
 rocks near the sea-shore. Solitude, I was sure, 
 would equally befriend me on so sacred an occa- 
 sion. No sooner, therefore, had I completed a 
 musical copy Mr. Bauer had desired to be written 
 out for him, than I sallied forth through the city- 
 gate, through fields and meadows, over paths I 
 never trod before, poetizing all the way into an 
 open pocket-book, as fast as the dear numbers 
 would flow. 
 
 The stream of Hippocrene, however, ran but 
 sluggishly and scantily ; a goodly line occasionally 
 turned up, but its rhyming companion kept out 
 of sight. Viva voce declamation was summoned 
 in aid, and impressive gesticulation, with the red 
 morocco in one hand and the blunted pencil in the 
 other ; all which did fair service. 
 
 “ All Nature hail’d the blissful hour. 1 * 
 
 ** And two-pence fell the peck of flour, ** 
 
 cried out lustily in my rear an impertinent for- 
 ward rogue of a big boy, from among some six or 
 eight of his kidney, who, instead of botanizing, 
 had probably followed my steps for some time, 
 and who, with schoolboy impudence, now set up 
 a general horse-laugh. In the imprudent attempt 
 
180 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK* 
 
 to chastise the culprit, I found myself assailed by 
 uncleanly lumps of earth from all sides ; and the 
 Lilliputian host were gaining fast upon their un- 
 weaponed victim, when another detachment, for- 
 tunately under the control of their superior, join- 
 ed the scene. Professor Werner, to whom I was 
 not unknown, making all due apology for the 
 rudeness of his disciples, exacted a proper number 
 of bones from the transgressors, and very hu- 
 manely bore a hand in reducing my garments and 
 skin to their pristine hues. My tablets, too, were 
 happily recovered in a puddle — and these giving 
 Mr. Werner occasion to laud my zeal in sacrificing 
 at the Pierian shrine, he offered his services in re- 
 storing the readings of the dripping manuscript. 
 Out of evil comes good. The Professor, who had 
 for years enriched the Dresden Almanacks with 
 the sweetest bits of poetry, sentimental, anacreon- 
 tic, and epigrammatic, was perfectly au fait in the 
 main roads and side-paths of Parnassus. The un- 
 ruly peurile crew were sternly ordered to continue 
 its botanizations under the superintendence of the 
 tutor, while Mr. Werner and I sat down on a 
 sunny bank to retrieve, rejoin, and retouch the 
 Natal Ode, which he was pleased to pronounce a 
 perfectly genial effort, requiring little or no aid at 
 his hands. The task, therefore, was soon com- 
 pleted; and, as lovers are most discreet people* 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 181 
 
 Virginia , instead of Amelia , was made the divi- 
 nity of the song, to keep the Professor in decorous 
 darkness. 
 
 44 . 
 
 PAUL AND VIRGINIA. 
 
 Rich in my poetic treasure, I reached Mrs. 
 Bauer’s in buoyant spirits. With the exception 
 of Barbel, the old sibyl, no one was at home to in- 
 terrupt my farther offerings to the Muses ; for 
 the ode was now to be set to music. Being a 
 much better musician than a poet, the composition 
 went its fair train. In fact, there was a super- 
 abundance of melodic ideas, all which I would 
 fain have introduced at once. A choice, however, 
 became necessary ; and, after sacrificing about half- 
 a-dozen sheets, the ultimate selection, although 
 much under the beau ideal of my exalted demands, 
 seemed upon the whole to be not unworthy of its 
 author or its object. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer, who arrived when the copy was 
 nearly completed, and saw me intensely riveted 
 to my task, amidst sheets on the table and sheets 
 on the floor, asked some questions ; the answer to 
 which was, that I had tried to set to music some 
 lines of Goethe’s which had struck my fancy, and, 
 as she sang at sight, I requested she would try 
 R 
 
182 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 the air while I played the accompaniment : she 
 consented, gave the paper a short perusal, and 
 began. 
 
 The taste and expression which Mrs. Bauer 
 threw into every sentence and passage, filled my 
 heart with delight. But what was my astonish- 
 ment, when at the line u Ye angels smile, Vir- 
 ginia lives,” she sang, with an arch significance, 
 
 “Ye angels smile, Amelia lives !” 
 
 u Amelia !” I exclaimed. 
 
 u Amelia, to be sure ; and why should the poor 
 thing not live, for all she makes killing work of 
 you ? Ah, Master Ferdinand, the bird was too 
 old to be caught in a paper trap, whatever the trap 
 may do elsewhere. So, then, this is to be the mas- 
 ter-bait, to hook the philosophic damsel on ? well 
 done, Mr. Irresistible! who would have suspected 
 such scheming under a face of such innocent sim- 
 plicity ? Music and Poetry ! What heart can with- 
 stand such two-edged weapons ? and a philosophic 
 heart too ! it will be pierced through and through, 
 that ’s certain. And pray who rode Pegasus for 
 you ? who poetized ?” 
 
 u With some trifling help, I dared to mount my- 
 self.” 
 
 u Ay, got up behind ; and cantered, I must 
 say, in fine style. The verses are pretty, and the 
 music is quite charming. But ’tis all labour in 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 183 
 
 vain, my good Ferdinand. The fish will not bite, 
 take my word for it ; not so much as a nibble.” 
 
 At these words the sound of Mr. Bauer’s voice 
 was heard at the street-door, humming gaily Son? 
 contento di buon cuore y followed by a lusty peal of 
 the house-bell. u He has won at the casino, what 
 do you lay, Ferdinand,?” said Mrs. Bauer : u we ’ll 
 have a little fun; leave me to manage.” The 
 good spouse had by this time mounted the stairs 
 in double quick time, amidst a da capo of Son' con- 
 tento di buon cuore , accompanied by a jingling of 
 the lawful coins of the Grand Duchy, partaking, 
 as it were, of the joy of their new owner. Instead 
 of an angle of 45°, through which on losing 
 evenings Mr. Bauer contrived to slink into his 
 home, the door of the room opened vigorously be- 
 yond quadrant, and a beaming countenance of 
 inward contentment presented itself, and bade us 
 an affable good evening. Mrs. Bauer, as in duty 
 bound, offered congratulations on the anticipated 
 good luck. 
 
 u Pretty well for once in a way, my jewel. 
 Three florins thirty or so,” said the happy com- 
 poser of trumps; u and with no great things of 
 cards either. But whist is a matter of calculation, 
 as much as a canon in music, and he that has 
 head to work it must carry the day. Cards in the 
 long run will find their level. The old Forest- 
 Counsellor had six and seven trumps at a time; 
 
184 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 and his pelf, for all that, found its way into my 
 pocket. It does one’s heart good to win such a 
 miser’s money. — You should have seen his woe- 
 begone face, when he had to pay two bumpers 
 running, just for all the world as if he had a 
 black dose to swallow. It shall go towards a pair 
 of bracelets for you, my dear. But how comes it, 
 my darling, we are so late with the cloth ? I have 
 brought a good appetite home, I can assure you ; 
 something nice, I hope ?” 
 
 “ We quite forgot the time ; Ferdinand and I 
 were trying a song he copied for me this after- 
 noon.” 
 
 u What song, my angel ? let ’s see.” 
 u From a new opera of Winter’s — Paul and 
 Virginia. Here it is.” 
 
 u Paul and Virginia 9 That ’s curious enough ; 
 never heard a word of it till now. Why, he brought 
 out his Fratelli not three months ago. I hope he 
 is not writing against time.” 
 
 u It don’t seem so from this specimen, which is 
 really very charming, as far as I am a judge.” 
 
 “ And a very excellent judge you are, my an- 
 gel s you foretold my Vieni, vieni , oh bel tesoro , 
 would excite raptures ; and it was encored twice 
 the very first time, and is so every night the opera 
 is played. To be sure, that excellent creature, 
 Palotti, sings it divinely.” 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 185 
 
 “ Con amove , we know ; she is a favourite of 
 yours, all the world says.” 
 
 u In musical matters, my dear, that ’s all. . . . 
 Not amiss this, I dare say; come, let's hear it, 
 while Barbel lays the cloth. She is vastly slow 
 in her motions.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer himself now took the piano-forte. 
 His experienced eye seizing at a glance the weft 
 and drift of whole lines, the approved accompa- 
 niments he devised gave me a still higher opinion 
 of my labour : every now and then he encouraged 
 Mrs. Bauer’s exertions with a nodding Brava! 
 brava ! and at the close of the piece he agreed in 
 his wife’s opinion of its merits. u ’Tis impos- 
 sible,” said he, u to mistake Winter’s style; there 
 is a certain simple unaffected chasteness in his 
 ideas which makes its way to the heart. But I 
 could lay what you please this piano-forte extract 
 is not of his own making ; he knows better than 
 to double thirds in this way. — That ’s the worst 
 with our works ; let us be ever so careful in the 
 score, some clumsy arranger will murder our 
 finest passages, and then the fault is laid at our 
 door.” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer. u In the present case, I can assure 
 you, the author himself has made the arrangement.” 
 Mr. Bauer. u Don’t be so positive, my good girl: 
 you have been told so, I dare say ; and you . . . 
 u 3 
 
186 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 Mrs . Bauer . u My information is from the au- 
 thor himself, who at this moment is within our 
 walls.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u What ? what ? — Winter in this 
 town, and not give me a call ? An old friend, a 
 fellow-student ? — Oh, you are joking, my dear !— , 
 Where did you see him ? where does he live ?” 
 Mrs. Bauer. u The author lives — if a being over 
 head and ears in love can be said to live — he 
 lives at this moment in yon corner, demurely en- 
 joying this innocent stratagem. Allow me to in- 
 troduce Winter the Second, Mr. Ferdinand Franck, 
 who ” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u What, Fer — Ferdinand ? No, no ! 
 the joke may be a very good one, my dear ; but it 
 won’t take. Believe me, I would willingly give a 
 hundred ducats, poor as we are, if Ferdinand 
 could set such an air as this !” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer . u Hand over the money, Bauer — 
 out with it ! Is it your doing or not, Ferdinand ? 
 speak for yourself !” (I nodded assent.) u How 
 dull some clever people are : don’t you take yet, 
 Bauer ? A birthday effusion, that ’s all : for Vir- 
 ginia, read Amelia ! The first fruits of our 
 amatory Genius, reared in the hotbed of love ! ” 
 At these words, the excellent man stood for an 
 instant motionless, looking at me with tears of 
 delight in his eyes ; then rushing upon me with 
 enthusiastic fervour, he nearly strangled me in 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 187 
 
 repeated embraces. He was overcome ; his over- 
 flowing heart stifled the words on his lips for 
 some time : at last he exclaimed, u This — this is 
 the happiest day of my existence ! What, Ferdi- 
 nand, my brave boy ! Thou art my son, my se- 
 cond self ! I thought I had but just sown, and a 
 rich and blessed harvest already rewards my la- 
 bour ! — My labour ? — No, Ferdinand ; it is the 
 gift of Providence ! the divine spark lay within 
 you, ere we knew each other ; let mine be the 
 pride to have brought it to light .!” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer . u Say, rather, to have nursed and 
 fostered it. Miss Waldheim, I fancy, set fire to 
 the combustible.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer . “ So much the better ; she, too, is 
 
 my pupil. They are made for each other ; and what 
 Heaven hath joined, man shall not sever ! — But 
 the chicken is getting cold, my dear ! We can eat 
 and chat too ; ay, and drink the health of Winter 
 the Second, as you justly called him. You, Barbel, 
 step over to the White Swan, and tell them to 
 send us a bottle of their very best Champaign: 
 it is a day never to be forgotten ; not to be cele- 
 brated in table-swipes ! Champaign is the divine 
 juice fit for the occasion. The old Forest-Coun- 
 sellor’s money will just pay the treat.” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer , (aside.) u Adieu, bracelets !” 
 
 Mr. Bauer, although compounded of sensitive 
 materials, possessed a sufficiency of sensual ingre- 
 
188 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 clients, not to let the former get the better of the 
 epicurean likings of his earthly nature. On the 
 contrary, any powerful emotion from his finer 
 feelings, when it had subsided a little — and the 
 transition at all times was easy and speedy — al- 
 ways served to stimulate his appetite. On those 
 occasions, as on the present, we made it a point to 
 limit our own cravings, so as to indulge his larger 
 demands. He thus contrived, amidst incessant 
 talk, to dispatch chicken, salad, omelets, and stew- 
 ed prunes, without much participation on our 
 part, taking care to aid deglutition by repeated 
 libations of common Hock ; all which greatly as- 
 sisted the fluency of his converse, even before the 
 arrival of the divine juice from the White Swan, 
 the cork of which, scientifically humoured by his 
 experienced dexterity, flew with a cheering report 
 to the ceiling. 
 
 “ Heavenly music !” cried the elated bard — 
 u It is as if a whole orchestra struck fortissimo 
 one grand chord with one simultaneous crash ! 
 followed by an effervescence of rapid passages of 
 thousands of demisemiquavers ! How they bubble 
 and bustle, the pearly gems ! Here ’s to the new- 
 born darling of the Muses —Vivat, Jloreat in scecula 
 sceculorum , for ever and ever ! 
 
 “ Viva* il buon vivo ! 
 
 Vivan* le feminine ! 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 189 
 
 (saluting Mrs . Bauer , who muttered , soWo uoctf, 
 “ What for ?”) 
 
 « The Turks they are simpletons, not to drink wine; 
 
 The blockheads had better their Koran resign. 
 
 “ Nectar ! absolute nectar !” exclaimed Mr. 
 Bauer, after emptying the fourth glass : u a truly 
 mental liquor, capable of warming the heart and 
 soul, and rousing genial energies in the mind. — If 
 I could afford it, Champaign should be my break- 
 fast, dinner, and supper : nay, let me tell you, my 
 dear, if his Serene Highness our most gracious 
 Sovereign were to allow two or three dozen for 
 every opera he orders, you should see what 
 Bauer could do !” 
 
 Mrs . Bauer. u I should be happy to see it.” 
 
 On the present occasion, however, the mental 
 luminary of the inspired bard had already passed the 
 culmination of its orbit. Ideas still crowded upon 
 him, and incessantly employed his voluble tongue ; 
 but his discourse was remarkable rather for quan- 
 tity than quality. He would now absolutely cor- 
 rect my music : but he dipped the pen into the 
 Champaign instead of the ink ; and a moment 
 or two afterwards upset the glass right over my 
 unfortunate manuscript, which he had the pre- 
 sence of mind instantly to snatch up and form 
 into a gutter, to convey what could be saved to 
 his parched organ of deglutition. 
 
190 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 It was with some difficulty that Mr. Bauer 
 could be persuaded to allow his mortal frame to be 
 consigned to its nightly repose. He now wished 
 to compose, but on rising from his chair to go to the 
 piano-forte, considerable errors in the adjustment 
 of his centre of gravity were obvious ; and he at 
 length cheerfully resigned the disposal of his 
 radical limbs to the care of his affectionate spouse. 
 We conducted him to his dormitory up-stairs ; 
 talking, and singing, and laughing alternately, 
 until the closing of his visual blinds proclaimed 
 a cessation from all mental communion with ex- 
 terior objects. 
 
 45. 
 
 LOVE IN CHAINS. 
 
 Mr. Bauer having on the following day made 
 a few alterations, chiefly as to accompaniment, in 
 my music to the Birthday Ode, it remained for 
 me to give it an elegant graphical exterior suit- 
 able to the occasion. My penmanship was of the 
 first order, and I had made considerable progress 
 in drawing. Another of the fine arts I there- 
 fore thought might advantageously co-operate in 
 my object. Two whole days were devoted to the 
 accomplishment of the design : for not only were 
 the margins of the three pages curiously embel- 
 lished with running garlands of roses, forget-me- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 191 
 
 liots, and heart’s-eases, here and there embowering 
 little medallions of cooing and wooing doves, 
 hearts in pairs, either emitting ethereal flames, 
 or spitted cross-wise by neat little darts, fierce 
 lions mounted by gentle diminutive Cupids, &c. ; 
 but there were moreover two large vignettes, 
 allegorical of the power of music. One, by way 
 of frontispiece, represented Orpheus, a celebrated 
 solo performer of antiquity, giving a benefit con- 
 cert in a Thracian forest to a numerous audience 
 of all sorts; for the three kingdoms of Nature, 
 animal, vegetable, and mineral, came to hear the 
 divine songster. You might see the Thracian 
 shepherds and clowns lolling at their ease on 
 the green turf; behind them stood a world of 
 quadruped and biped connoisseurs, _ lions, bears, 
 and panthers, ducks, geese, and musical swans ; 
 the trees formed upper boxes for the feathered 
 race, themselves nodding their branches and foli- 
 age in token of applause ; and the very stones 
 bending forward, or leaping out of the parent 
 rock, to witness the virtuoso’s skill. At the end 
 of the music, and just above the written text, 
 Arion was introduced, bestriding a dolphin ; and 
 another vignette at the bottom represented Am- 
 phion, a harp professor and builder, communica- 
 ting the musico-mania to stones, brick and mortar, 
 in order to form the walls of Thebes. There you 
 might behold huge fragments of rock, every one 
 
192 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 inscribed “ Amelia,” spontaneously raising and 
 ranging themselves into compact layers of Cy- 
 clopian structure. 
 
 The whole being deemed fair and pleasant to 
 look at, nothing remained but to clothe the MS. 
 in crimson gros de Naples , and to print on the 
 outside, in letters of gold, 
 
 The Natal Day ; 
 written , composed , and designed 
 by 
 
 Ferdinand Franck, 
 in commemoration of the auspicious hour 
 which gave birth 
 to the Pride of her Sex, 
 
 Amelia Waldheim. 
 
 The glorious day began to dawn through the 
 blue checkered curtains of my garret-window, and 
 I heard and counted the tardy but lengthened 
 sounds of the deep cathedral clock striking six. 
 It was as if the blows spelt the dear name of 
 Amelia. Although no care was wanting in the 
 arrangement of my dress, and the general decoration 
 of my personnel , yet it seemed as if the hours of 
 this happy day, wishing to partake of its joy, were 
 reluctant to depart Mrs. Bauer, too, from well- 
 meant reasons of decorum, delayed my setting out ; 
 and it was not till ten that I sallied through 
 narrow by-lanes lessening the distance, with the 
 
FERDINAND FRANCE. 193 
 
 bantling of my genius under my arm, towards 
 Baron Dohm’s. 
 
 As ill luck would have it, before reaching the 
 last turn, I met Mr. Aaron Benzheimer in a sort 
 of demi-gala ; and learnt, without so much as a 
 question on my part — great as was my haste — » 
 that he had been to offer to Miss Waldheim his 
 congratulations on her birthday ; “For,” said he, 
 “ 4 if the fiddle is to go, you must rosin well the 
 bow,’ as the saying is, Mr. Franck: the Baron, 
 as I have told you, is my great friend ; and his 
 niece, I-can assure you, is every thing with him— 
 he doats upon her. Opportunities of this kind 
 no prudent man will let slip.” 
 
 Whether on this particular day my youthful 
 heart was incapable of any concealment, or whe- 
 ther it was owing to the haste I was in, and the 
 hopes of an earlier release from Mr. Benzheimer, 
 if I answered his questions without evasion, his 
 insatiable curiosity and wonderful dexterity of 
 fathoming other people’s affairs triumphed this 
 time. He learnt the purport of my errand ; and 
 as most men measure the actions of others by 
 their own ethical standard, so did Mr. Benzheimer 
 forthwith interpret my offering, with the nature 
 of which he was as yet unacquainted, as intended 
 to procure, through Amelia’s interference, some 
 good thing from the powerful influence of her 
 s 
 
194 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 uncle. He commended my prudence, took it for 
 granted 1 meant to resign my musical studies as 
 soon as some more respectable career presented 
 itself, and, sincere as he was in his friendship 
 towards me, assured me that he would himself 
 put in a good word for me with the Baron, as he 
 had already done this very morning with Miss 
 Waldheim. 
 
 u And pray, Mr. Benzheimer, how came you to 
 do so ?” 
 
 u No offence, I hope, my young friend, to speak 
 well of those one has a regard for. How I came 
 to do so ? — When I am with Miss Waldheim, 
 you must know, Mr. Franck, we chat for hours — 
 we talk of a thousand things — she asks me the 
 news.” 
 
 u She knows her man.” 
 
 u To be sure she does, and I know mine. As 
 she is very fond of music, I always make it a 
 point to introduce the subject : if you talk to 
 people about their hobbies, you are sure to knock 
 at the right door. And so you see, Mr. Franck, 
 talking of music, I asked Miss Waldheim whether 
 she had heard of the young musical genius we 
 
 had in our residence c What genius ?’ says 
 
 she. c Mr. Franck/ says I, c the young man 
 that is with Mr. Bauer.’ ” 
 
 <c And what did Miss Waldheim say?” 
 u Oh, she said she had heard you play wonderfully 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 195 
 
 well the other day, when you came to tune the 
 piano-forte. — That ’s the instrument I sold to the 
 Baron.” 
 
 44 Is that all she said ?” 
 
 44 She asked how I came to know you, and I 
 told her how we first met in the snow-storm ; and 
 I told her, my noble friend, how you pommelled 
 the two students at Walbach, because they scoffed 
 at my persuasion — and bless you for it all the days 
 of your life, my young hero ! — She made me tell 
 her the whole business ; and when I had done she 
 said, 4 He must be a generous youth : what cou- 
 rage !’ — 4 Courage, Madam!’ says I ; 4 gentle as he 
 appears when his fingers travel over the keys, Mr. 
 Franck is a lion when he fights in a good cause !’ 
 — So you see, my young friend, I have already 
 paved your way at the Baron’s, and your present 
 will come quite a propos. And pray, may I ask 
 what present you intend to offer ?” 
 
 44 Some verses, set to music, in celebration of 
 Miss Waldheim’s birthday.” 
 
 44 Verses ! Mr. Franck ? Verses ! They are 
 pretty, no doubt, and clever, I dare say. But 
 what are verses ? Paper kites — pure paper kites ; 
 read once in a way, and then laid by and forgotten. 
 I could get dozens of them made to order for the 
 matter of a six-batzner,* if I did not often buy 
 
 A German coin, worth about eight-pence. 
 
196 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 them by the pound for waste paper. Excuse my 
 freedom, Mr. Franck; but if you think of winning 
 the good graces of a lady with a leaf or two of pa- 
 per, you will find yourself out of your reckoning. 
 Their favour must be won by gifts more substan- 
 tial. The ladies are shrewd calculators ; they 
 measure our good-will and estimation of them by 
 the value of the sacrifice we make to manifest 
 both.” 
 
 u Selfish and sordid souls are to be met with 
 every where; but Miss Waldheim, the intellec- 
 tual Miss Waldheim, an enthusiast in literature 
 
 u Would prefer a dress of Brussels lace or a 
 Cashmere shawl to all the poems of Cicero or Ju- 
 lius Caesar, take my word for it. They are all 
 alike ; though some may conceal their weakness, 
 and others not be aware of it. When I first paid 
 my addresses to Mrs. Benzheimer, Mr. Franck, 
 though in the prime of life, and not much amiss 
 in person, as you may suppose from my Esther, 
 who is the image of my younger years, and re- 
 markable for saying the prettiest things in the 
 most genteel way ! it was all up-hill work for a 
 long time. All my fine speechifying, all the sweet 
 and tender words, were of no use ; though, if they 
 were put in black and white, they might, without 
 disparagement to your verses, read as pretty as 
 they, for aught I know. Well, I thought of try- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 1 07 
 
 ing another tack : maybe, says I to myself, you 
 are too modest, too backward ; some ladies have 
 an aversion for bashful young men. I behaved 
 more warmly — I tried a salute, and got a sound 
 box on the ear to cool my ardour. I was quite in 
 despair, as you may suppose; for Mrs. Benz- 
 heimer, I knew, had between thirteen and four- 
 teen hundred florins a-year settled upon her by her 
 poor father. 4 What ’s the matter, Aaron ?’ said 
 my old uncle Levy, one day when he saw me in 
 this melancholy way : and I told him all my grief. 
 4 Have you made her a present, Aaron ?’ was the 
 first question he asked me. 4 A present, uncle !’ 
 says I ; 4 how should I make a present without 
 stealing it first ? for I am poor and in debt, as you 
 know ; not having paid you as yet for the second- 
 hand coat now on my back.’ — 4 1 really feel for 
 you, my good Aaron,’ said my uncle Levy; 4 and 
 I think it a pity you should lose a bargain for want 
 of a little help on my part. I ’ll lend you the mo- 
 ney, my good fellow : ’tis a great risk, to be sure ; 
 but you are my nephew, and if it brings you luck 
 you can well afford a good interest — I shall ask no 
 more than twenty per cent. Nay, I will do more, 
 Aaron; I ’ll sell you the present itself. You can’t 
 give her a more charming thing than this superb 
 gold chain. I had it a bargain : it weighs good 
 eight loth twelve grain, and three hundred guil- 
 ders was the price demanded ; but as I knew the 
 s 3 
 
198 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 man was pressed for cash, I got it for little more 
 than half its value. It cost me one hundred and 
 eighty guilders, and you shall have it for the same 
 money, making good nine months’ regular inte- 
 rest.’ — Well, Mr. Franck, I took the chain on 
 these hard terms — for I knew it was not worth a 
 hundred guilders — and went with it to Mrs. Benz- 
 heimer, who, as usual, looked as dismal and black 
 as a playhouse when the doors are opened. But 
 no sooner did the word present escape my lips, than 
 it was as if all the stage-lamps made their cheering 
 appearance before the curtain ; and when I took 
 the chain and hung it round her plump little neck, 
 and ventured another salute, instead of a box on 
 the ear it was value for value, with cent, per cent, 
 interest to boot, I can assure you. To make short 
 of it, the chain settled the business ; in a week’s 
 time the Rabbi broke the glass goblet over us, and 
 chained us for life. Therefore I say, Mr. Franck, 
 you must not go empty-handed before Miss Wald- 
 heim. Take your verses by all means, as you 
 have taken such pains with them ; but take her 
 this ring at the same time. ’Tis not of great 
 value ; she knows you cannot afford solitaires . I 
 will not deal by you as my uncle Levy did by me 
 — Heaven save his poor soul ! You shall pay me 
 twenty guilders for it whenever you can spare 
 them. Take it to any jeweller; and if he says it is 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 199 
 
 not worth that money between brothers, you shall 
 have it for nothing. Can I speak more fairly ?” 
 
 My patience having long been exhausted with 
 the endless prattle of my Hebrew friend, I thank- 
 ed him for his well-meant ofFer, and left him in 
 haste. 
 
 u You shall have it for nothing; I will make 
 you a present of it,” cried he, hurrying after me, 
 “ if you will but give it her but my nimble legs 
 soon outstripped his corpulent pursuit. 
 
 46. 
 
 A JEW WEDDING. 
 
 Matters of minor consideration ought never to 
 interrupt or retard for an instant a more import- 
 ant pursuit. Owing to my giving ear to Mr. 
 Benzheimer’s gossip, I found, on reaching Baron 
 Dohm’s, that Amelia was engaged with another 
 visitor, whose departure the servant requested me 
 to await. At last the happy, the anxious moment 
 arrived — I was ushered in — the cheering words, 
 u I ’m not at home,” which Amelia spoke to the 
 retiring servant, dispelled all previous awkward- 
 ness and embarrassment, and I presented my of- 
 fering with a good grace and becoming ardour. 
 
 The gift was received with apparent kindness ; 
 great praises were lavished on my labour, and gra- 
 
200 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 cious thanks returned for this <c valuable token of 
 my attention.’ * What more could I expect ? and 
 yet there was, not a coolness, but a studied civility, 
 in Amelia’s expressions, which I thought differed 
 widely from her frank and ingenuous conduct on 
 previous occasions. A lover is too sensitive a be- 
 ing not to perceive the slightest variation in the 
 aspect of his idol, as readily as the valetudinarian 
 feels the most trifling change in the temperature 
 of the atmosphere. 
 
 u These lines,” said Amelia, u would be beauti- 
 ful, if they were addressed to one that possessed all 
 these perfections. To be sure, poetry deals in fic- 
 tion, and your poet has made good use of the pri- 
 vilege.” 
 
 “ The poet, Miss Amelia, has but faintly ex- 
 pressed what he felt — what his heart dictated.” 
 u Oh ! I understand, Mr. Franck ; it is an adapta- 
 tion — an old song to a new tune. Mutato nomine , 
 as my Latin master used to say : of the tune you 
 are the author, of course ?” 
 
 u And of the old song, as Miss Waldheim is 
 pleased to call it, no less.” 
 
 “ What ! you a poet, Mr. Franck ?” 
 u If my feeble effort could lay claim to such a 
 name, it would be to the object alone which in- 
 spired my pen that I should owe my success.” 
 u And these elegant embellishments— to whose 
 classic pencil am I indebted for them ?” 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 201 
 
 64 Hasty sketches of mine, which, under less 
 
 pressure of time 99 
 
 44 Impossible, Mr. Franck ; a second Rubens or 
 Salvator Rosa, prepared to ask the idol of his heart 
 whether she fancied a painter, poet, or composer. 
 This garland, above all, is infinitely tasteful. But 
 allow me to ask, what is the meaning of all these 
 pretty little hearts ? Let ’s see ; two, four, six, 
 twelve : just a round dozen, without including 
 those killed, or sufficiently transfixed to be hors de 
 combat. They are trophies , I presume ; classic, in- 
 deed, but somewhat polygamic, I must confess.” 
 
 44 All fac-similes of each other, repetitions of the 
 same endearing object.” 
 
 44 Credat Judjeus ! ! The commentary, at all 
 events, is ingenious. But I am really ungenerous 
 in applying these minute criticisms to a work in 
 which such rare gifts have been exerted for my 
 sake. I cannot hut feel proud in having given em- 
 ployment to a combination of talents which already 
 form the admiration of our capital.” 
 
 44 And which, may I be allowed to add, seem to 
 afford scope for the display of a talent to which I 
 had hoped Miss Waldheim was a stranger.” 
 
 44 I am by no means in jest, Mr. Franck ; your 
 praises have sounded betwixt these very walls not 
 an hour ago.” 
 
 44 I understand, Miss Waldheim ; that gab- 
 bling Jew, Mr. Benzheimer, whom I met com- 
 ing from hence, has, in his ofiiciousness, stunned 
 
202 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK; 
 
 your ears with nonsense. An excellent authority, 
 
 forsooth ! Praises from such a quarter 99 
 
 u Now don’t be ungrateful, Mr. Franck. The 
 good man related your deeds of prowess with tears 
 in his eyes. The testimony of an eye-witness, 
 surely, is good evidence ; and, as to your musical 
 abilities, his authority is scarcely of less weight. 
 ‘ The tree,’ ( imitating Mr, Benzheimer's voice ) 
 4 the tree, Madam, is known by its fruit. No 
 more than three lessons, and what a wonderful 
 change ! You should hear him sing a duet with 
 my Essy : it is as if a bullfinch, ’—mind, a bull- 
 finch, Mr. Franck — 6 it is as if a bullfinch sat upon 
 one branch, and a nightingale upon the other. 
 That old rogue, Mr. Katzenberger, just picked my 
 pocket with his lessons. Essy hated him^ whereas 
 Mr. Franck does every thing to make his instruc- 
 tion agreeable, and makes it a point to stay over- 
 time ; so no wonder she is partial to him : and I 
 
 shrewdly suspect the liking is mu ’ 99 
 
 44 The fool ! — the knave ! I should say. And can 
 
 Miss Waldheim ” 
 
 44 Fie, Mr. Franck, to revile your best friend — 
 6 the liking is mutual ; and such is my regard for 
 this excellent young man, that if he could submit 
 
 to become of our persuasion ’ ” 
 
 44 Enough ! more than enough, Miss Waldheim ! 
 the villain has been hired by Major Dornhofif, to 
 instil poison, to ruin me in your estimation. Like 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 203 
 
 Judas, his ancestor, he has sold his friend for thir- 
 ty shekels. But his life shall pay the forfeit of his 
 treachery.” 
 
 I seized my hat, and was hurrying from Ame- 
 lia’s presence, to inflict summary punishment on 
 the miscreant. 
 
 M Hold !” exclaimed Amelia with some agita- 
 tion, placing herself in my way : u verses, if you 
 please, but no bloodshed in my cause : you shall 
 not stir until your inflammable temper has calmed 
 itself.” 
 
 <c Calmed itself, Amelia ? when my ruin is plot- 
 ted, when all my hopes are blasted !” ( sinking on 
 the sofa). u Spare your tender mercies ; they may 
 be wanted for the author of this villany. The in- 
 sidious coward had not the heart to meet his rival 
 manfully ; but though his ancestors fought in the 
 Crusades, and mine were humble, he shall find, to 
 his cost, that there is blood in my veins, and a 
 Power on high to avenge insulted honour and in- 
 jured innocence. I am guiltless, Miss Waldheim ; 
 but if such base fabrications find welcome entrance, 
 I am an error the poorer I confess, and I owe my 
 disappointment, my wretchedness, to the dissipa- 
 tion of a fond belief in unalloyed, perhaps ideal, 
 perfection. My heart sinks within me ; allow me 
 to depart, Miss Waldheim. Farewell for ever, ever 
 farewell !” 
 
 “ If my wish to detain you, Mr. Franck, until 
 
204 FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 sober reason resumes its sway, is to be of no avail, 
 be it so. I have no right over your actions, how- 
 ever I might wish that we parted friends, on this 
 day above all.” 
 
 u I riends ! Miss Waldheim : my last breath will 
 invoke Heaven’s blessing on you.” 
 
 “ Notwithstanding that the alloy of my imper- 
 fection allows welcome entrance to base fabrica- 
 tions ; notwithstanding that you are going to fight 
 my supposed adorer, and dispatch the innocent Jew 
 for his idle prattle ? Come, Mr. Franck, let ’s be a 
 little rational and candid. For your assiduities to 
 
 Miss Benzheimer ” 
 
 “ My assiduities ! gracious Heavens ” 
 
 “ Well, for your alleged assiduities to Miss Es- 
 ther, or to any other of my sex, I can have no 
 right or title to call you to an account ; though I 
 may feel a certain degree of curiosity in the solu- 
 tion of a question otherwise of no moment. Asa 
 matter of mere fact, therefore, tell me candidly, 
 Mr. Franck, how stands the case ?” 
 
 It may be supposed that the most solemn pro- 
 testations in the power of language were resorted 
 to, for the purpose of refuting Mr. Benzheimer’s 
 silly and unfounded boastings of the impression 
 his daughter had made on my heart, as well as in 
 disclaiming, on my word of honour, any knowledge 
 of an inclination on her part ; and, in proof of my 
 veracity, I intreated Miss Waldheim to send for 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 205 
 
 the father instantly, to convict him of falsehood in 
 my presence. This request was as instantly de- 
 clined : indeed, perturbed as was the state of my 
 feelings, I saw with delight, from the brightening 
 countenance of Amelia, that ready and willing cre- 
 dence was given to my assertion. Her spirits re- 
 sumed their exhilarating playful buoyancy ; she 
 laughed immoderately at Mr. Benzheimer’s no- 
 tion of my apostacy in favour of the Synagogue 
 for the sake of Miss Esther. 
 
 u Worth a Jew’s eye, no question !” she added : 
 u but let her have it ready-made, and not inocu- 
 late good Christians, such as Mr. Franck, with 
 Judaism. How stately he would have looked 
 with a beard neat and well trimmed, leading the 
 daughter of Judah to the bridal ceremony. I 
 should have been curious to see a Jew wedding for 
 the first time in my life : surely you would not 
 omit asking an old friend ?” 
 
 u None more sure to be at my wedding than 
 Miss Waldheim, for . . . .” 
 
 “ No commentary ! the text is quite plain, the 
 joke rather personal.” 
 
 “ No joke, I hope ?” 
 
 66 No joke to my uncle, I assure you, if such a 
 thing were to happen. But we are intonating 
 the old song, Mr. Franck. Had we not better try 
 the new one you have made for my sake?” 
 u Will Miss Waldheim take the vocal part ?” 
 
 T 
 
206 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 u And sing my own praise ? Nay, Mr. Franck, 
 that would be carrying the joke too far. You 
 must be so good as to take both the voice and the 
 accompaniment. You alone can do justice to your 
 own labour ; and mind, you must substitute some 
 other name : let us see, suppose you say Esther ?” 
 66 That will never suit my metre !” 
 
 The negotiation ended with “ Amanda ” being 
 acquiesced in by both the high contracting parties. 
 I played and sang literally con amore : my feelings 
 identified themselves with every word and note ; 
 my heart, vibrating in unison with the text and 
 melody, seemed to melt away into accents of ten- 
 der emotion. I felt the hand of Amelia, who 
 stood behind me, resting, then pressing, on my 
 shoulder : I ventured to raise my head from the 
 paper — my eye caught the mirror opposite ; I be- 
 held the reflected image of an angel, endeavouring 
 to repress a tear 
 
 u His Excellency,” said a servant, on opening 
 the door, u begs to see Miss Waldheim in the 
 library.” 
 
 Another minute, and my happiness, perhaps, 
 might have been decided. — I rose reluctantly to 
 take my leave : the gay, the brilliant features of 
 Amelia had assumed a tone of lovely pensiveness ; 
 her countenance, like the lily tinged with the 
 crimson hues of the evening sun, was suffused 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 207 
 
 with blushes. “ Thank you !” were the only 
 sounds that escaped her lips as we parted ; but 
 they were accompanied with a fervid pressure of 
 the hand, and a look which it would be vain to 
 attempt to describe. 
 
 47 - 
 
 LORD CHESTERFIELD REVISED. 
 
 “Well done, Master Ferdinand !” exclaimed 
 Mr. Bauer, as I turned the corner of the street 
 on my way home ; “ what have you been about all 
 this while ? Here have I been waiting this hour 
 and more to hear from you the joyful tidings at 
 first hand, instead of partaking of a snack which 
 Mrs. Bauer had prepared for us, and for which it 
 is now too late, unless we choose to spoil our appe- 
 tite for the good things which will be on table at 
 Monplaisir in less than an hour and a half from 
 this moment ; and it is an hour’s walk at least. 
 We have not twenty minutes to dress from head 
 to foot. Well ! have you settled the business ? 
 Good news, I see, my boy, from your very looks. 
 Tell us all about it.” 
 
 On being concisely informed of the impression 
 which I had reason .to flatter myself my gift had 
 made on Amelia, Mr. Bauer’s joy knew so little 
 bounds, that he seemed to forget all decorum, and 
 
208 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 the u last snack” into the bargain. He forth- 
 with intonated, and any thing but sotto vocc, 
 u La ci darem ’ la mano , la mi dirai di si.” 
 
 I begged for Heaven’s sake .... 
 
 u Mi pizzichi , mi stuzzichi ! puovero cuore l 
 You have hit the mark, my boy !” was all I 
 could obtain in answer ; so that I was glad to 
 speed the good man’s steps in all haste to our 
 home. 
 
 Mrs. Bauer’s questions were innumerable and 
 minute ; but I had no time to quench her cu- 
 riosity with the circumstantial details she ex- 
 pected. These, however, were liberally supplied 
 and embellished by her merry spouse, whose toi- 
 lette she superintended, and whose Stentorian 
 diapason I distinctly heard in my garret right 
 above, both our doors being open. — Nay, occasi- 
 onally he would halloo up to me an appeal for 
 the truth of his assertion. When I came down 
 fully equipped, his complacency, if I had been his 
 own offspring, could not have been more ecstatic ! 
 u There, Fanny,” said he, with inward pride, 
 “ look at this model for a painter, and tell me 
 the woman that can resist the rogue ?” — u Not 
 amiss,” said Mrs. Bauer, whilst she adjusted the 
 bow of my cravat into forms more seemly ; u but 
 mind my words — she may amuse him for a while, 
 but a match is out of the question.” — u Si vedra , 
 carina , si vedra” replied the spruce husband, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 209 
 
 smacking the flavour of a thimble-full of Dantzic 
 cordial, which his faint stomach had solicited, and 
 bidding a cordial adieu to the Carina as we de- 
 scended the stairs. 
 
 On passing the house of my Hebrew friend, I 
 could not forbear communicating to Mr. Bauer 
 the indiscreet boastings which the former had 
 dared to utter before Amelia with regard to Miss 
 Esther and myself, and the difficulty I had found 
 to clear myself of her suspicions. Mr. Bauer, in 
 his wrath, was actually on the point of retracing 
 his steps to vent his rage on poor Benzheimer ; 
 but a representation on my part, that the scene to 
 be expected, besides spoiling his appetite, would 
 just deprive us of the possibility of arriving in 
 time for the dinner at Monplaisir, acted as a ta- 
 lisman in assuaging his choler. u Out of evil,” 
 said he, “ comes good, my dear Ferdinand : what 
 greater proof could you desire of Miss Waldheim’s 
 affection, than the effect which the Jew’s story 
 produced on her feelings ? I wish you had men- 
 tioned this important fact to my wife, just to cure 
 her of her obstinate incredulity. — Say no more, 
 all is now as it should be ; and I am much mis- 
 taken, if this very day will not place the matter in 
 a state of absolute certainty, for all the panto- 
 mimical ballet which the old Baron has got up to 
 bring Major Dornhoff’s forlorn cause to bear. 
 The most clever men have often the most pre- 
 t 3 
 
210 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 posterous ideas in their heads ; as if Miss Wald~ 
 heim was the girl to be told by dumb show what 
 man she is to be tied up with for the rest of her 
 days ; the very thing to make her aversion irrevo- 
 cably certain. There will be dancing, and you 
 take care to lose no time in asking Miss Wald- 
 heim for the second waltz; the first, for decency’s 
 sake, will be with the Major, no doubt : and let 
 me recommend, above all, a certain independence 
 in demeanour ; crouching, and fawning, and woo- 
 ing, are the last things to succeed with the other 
 sex now-a-days : vastly well in the times of 
 knight-errantry, and even so late as thirty or 
 forty years back ; but the spirit of the age, in 
 this as in all other respects, has made giant 
 strides. Man has felt the dignity of his rank in 
 the creation; has seen the absurdity, and even 
 the impolicy, of cringing to the weaker sex, to 
 see whether he may be permitted to dispense for 
 life the maintenance and protection which it ab- 
 solutely requires.” 
 
 “ Love, then, the noblest of human affections, 
 is no longer admitted into the code of fashion ?” 
 
 u God forbid! my dear Ferdinand! Love, by 
 all means : but love united to good sense, and to 
 a consciousness of our dignity. When you shall 
 have an opportunity of observing the ton of the 
 day in the best societies, you will see our young 
 men walking the drawing-rooms with a sang 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 211 
 
 froid , an unconcern, that will astonish your ob- 
 solete ideas : now and then a condescending phrase 
 to a favourite beauty, which she values as a trea- 
 sure; and not unfrequently, as all things will 
 verge to the extreme, a bit of quizzing, or abso- 
 lute rudeness, is resorted to as the ne plus ultra of 
 fashionable male liberalism ; and, much too far as 
 it is carried, the practice is found to answer ad- 
 mirably. The goods that are offered for a song, 
 are seldom much prized.” 
 
 46 The discerning purchaser will not refuse a 
 valuable commodity for its cheapness.” 
 u No ; but when the value can only be known 
 by future experience, a low price is sure to create 
 suspicion. — There” ( we were passing a farm-yard 
 w observe that noble and stately animal with his 
 obsequious hens around him ! no wooing, no 
 pining, no submissive unmanly cringing. Con- 
 scious of his strength and dignity, but without 
 abusing either, he exerts these superior gifts in 
 the protection of his weaker consorts. There ! 
 he picks the food and disinterestedly lays it at 
 their feet. His rule is gentle, as ours should be, 
 but it is absolute.” 
 
 I asked poor Mr. Bauer, with a look of signi- 
 ficancy, whether these golden rules had ever been 
 propounded to his u weaker consort.” 
 
 u Needs no rules, my dear Ferdinand ! a good 
 time-piece, once put into a proper way of going, 
 
212 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 wants no farther regulating. She is the best of 
 women. Fifteen years ago, on first starting, there 
 were perhaps some slight knobs in the way of 
 compact concordance ; but, like flints rolled about 
 for years in the bed of a stream, all angles have 
 disappeared, all goes smooth ; and hurtful col- 
 lision is utterly out of the question. To say we 
 were made for each other would be unmeaning 
 romantic nonsense : but I will take upon myself 
 to declare, that we have succeeded in making 
 ourselves for each other ; and a better fit I defy 
 you to muster in the whole residence.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer’s feet having, in the course of these 
 unceasing perorations, entered into unconscious 
 rivalship with the speed of his vocal organs, in 
 spite of the afternoon rays of a vivid vernal sun, 
 and his watch announcing abundance of time for 
 the completion of the remainder of the journey 
 and our arrival before the anxious dinner-hour, 
 he proposed a few minutes’ rest on a bench before 
 a cottage by the road-side, inasmuch as nothing 
 was more destructive to a sound appetite than 
 setting-to with a heated frame ; and a dinner at 
 Monplaisir was worth so trifling a precaution. 
 
 u The master,” he continued, u was formerly 
 head -cook to the Elector of Mentz, and although 
 he keeps a regular man-cook, on such occasions as 
 this day’s festivity he superintends in person the 
 culinary department. His truffle-pasties, my 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 213 
 
 dear Ferdinand, of which, no doubt you will see 
 some perfect specimens, are celebrated all over the 
 country ; so much so, that he has a standing order 
 to send two every Sunday to the Grand-Duke’s 
 table. They are a delicious compound of inscru- 
 table flavours and delicacies — a full score of pre- 
 cious harmonizing parts. Exquisite river-crabs of 
 prodigious size will also he part of our bill of fare ; 
 and, as the season is so far advanced, there is every 
 probability we shall find lots of asparagus. And 
 as to wines, I can speak from ocular observation, 
 we may expect all that is most choice in every 
 part of the globe ; for, independently of the land- 
 lord’s cellar, which is well furnished, I saw, while 
 I was waiting for you, three large hampers put 
 into Baron Dohm’s caravan, besides a plate-chest, 
 some dozen of rockets, stars, Catherine wheels, &c. 
 One thing, my dear Ferdinand, let me recommend 
 to you : you are not accustomed to these fiery 
 foreign wines — great caution and moderation there- 
 fore is doubly requisite on your part, and on this 
 momentous occasion in particular ; above all, abs- 
 tain from too great a variety of liquors.” — (Poor 
 Mr. Bauer ! in this case, too, his practice swerved 
 woefully from his preaching.) “ As we shall pro- 
 bably not sit far from each other, don’t take it 
 amiss, if, in case of need, I make free . . . 
 
 My Mentor’s admonitions were interrupted by 
 the merry smacks of whips at a distance : he 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 2H 
 
 mounted the bench, and recognized a calash and 
 four, with an out-rider in Baron Dohm’s livery, 
 coming down the hill at full trot. A consultation 
 ensued, whether, as we could not have been per- 
 ceived, we had not better step into the cottage 
 till the carriage had passed ; but Mr. Bauer, ever 
 regardful of his ease and comfort, upon second 
 thoughts, was for proceeding slowly onwards, as 
 there was every probability that the Baron, out 
 of politeness, would offer to take us up ; in which 
 case we were sure to reach Monplaisir in an en- 
 viable state of coolness and fitness for the truffle- 
 pasties, the river-crabs, and the asparagus. 
 
 The outrider passed; the carriage turned the 
 corner. “ Stop ! stop !” exclaimed Amelia, with 
 smiling eagerness : Mr. Bauer, amidst submissive 
 bows, protestations of great liberty, undeserved 
 honour, &c., and with his hat in hand, seated him- 
 self by me very snugly ; while the Baron regretted 
 his inadvertence in not having thought of sparing 
 us the walk altogether, however reluctant I am 
 sure he would have been to leave town in the 
 company of plebeians. 
 
 We had scarcely entered into conversation, 
 when a furious galloping in the rear arrested our 
 attention. — Major Dornhoff, as ill luck would 
 have it ! — Salutations to all, including Mr. 
 Bauer : silence and a disdainful look to me. 
 
 <c The wretch of a beast !” said the Major, in 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 215 
 
 answer to Amelia’s question, how he could have 
 it in his conscience to use Caesar so cruelly. 
 “ The animal deserves to have his breath rode 
 out of his lungs, for the trick he served me this 
 morning at exercise. ’Tis not the rascal’s fault, 
 if I have a whole neck, or a sound bone in me, at 
 this moment. Only conceive, your Excellency 1 
 two squadrons, at half-gallop, had to clear the 
 Wehr-Ditch : not a man or horse missed ; but 
 Caesar—” 
 
 Amelia. u Would not pass the Rubicon ?” 
 u Passed it with a vengeance; poked his stupid 
 paw into a mole-hill, slipped, came down upon 
 his marrow-bones — no laughing matter, Miss 
 Waldheim — with a whole squadron at my heels, 
 ninety-nine out of a hundred must have been 
 trampled into sausage-meat.” 
 
 Amelia. u Forbear, I pray, Major ; the thoughts 
 of seeing Major Dornhoff transformed into a 
 cervelat ! — Horrible ! !” 
 
 u You are very kind, Miss Waldheim : such, 
 however, must infallibly have been the case, but 
 for the advice of my poor father, the Lord-Ranger, 
 who was the best rider in the Grand-Duchy. He 
 often used to say, (not that I go with him al- 
 together,) <• Trust horse and wife, if tired of 
 life.’ ” 
 
 Amelia . u Paternal precepts to be engraven—” 
 u Saved my life, positively. Short rein, sure 
 
216 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 reign ! tight bridle at all times : so you see, Miss 
 Waldheim, down and up again, without so much 
 as a scratch on his knees, was the act of the self- 
 same instant. But, so help me , if it had 
 
 not • been on duty, I should just have taken a 
 pistol from the holster and blown his stupid 
 brains out, for all I was offered 180 louis d’ors 
 for him not three days ago. Now the thing is 
 known, he will not fetch half the money. But 
 the rascal shall remember having said his prayers, 
 before I get rid of him.” 
 
 48, 
 
 MONT BLANC AND CAPE HORN. 
 
 With these and other equiniana, and amidst 
 uninterrupted prancings and caperings, and other 
 skilful exhibitions of the Major’s manege , occa- 
 sionally enlivened by coarse quizzing, at poor Mr. 
 Bauer’s cost, we reached the triple linden avenue 
 leading to Monplaisir. 
 
 This beautiful spot, on the verge of an exten- 
 sive forest, half embosomed between romantic 
 rocks, had been a hunting-seat of the late Count 
 Naufels, whose son, in consequence of some 
 pique against the Grand-Duke, had entered the 
 service of Russia, and, through the military 
 talents he displayed under Suwarrow in the 
 Turkish war, reached the rank of a general. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 217 
 
 Thus Monplaisir, with its dairy, gardens, ponds, 
 & c., was leased to a speculative innkeeper in 
 town, and converted into a place of public recrea- 
 tion. Its proximity to the capital, its rural 
 charms, and artificial embellishments, which were 
 kept in tolerable repair, drew thither every Sun- 
 day crowds of visitors of the middling classes : and 
 these attractions, together with the culinary cele- 
 brity of the host, rendered Monplaisir a place of 
 frequent occasional resort to the higher orders on 
 week-days, when their aristocratic eyes and pa- 
 lates could apprehend little intrusion from u the 
 Rabble especially as the more select delicacies 
 of cellar and table were dispensed at a deterring 
 per-centage for plebeian purses. 
 
 We now neared the open wings of a superb 
 iron gate, curiously wrought into ornamental 
 fretwork allusive to the chase, and surmounted 
 by huge stags’ horns of the same metal, fancifully 
 disposed and entwined into an arch. Mr. Bauer, 
 for a moment uncovered, endeavoured to stem the 
 milky streamlets, the sources of which a vernal 
 warmth had engendered in his festively farina- 
 ceous Mont-Blanc, and the meandering tracks of 
 which, in a sort of da capo movement, spread in 
 divers channels before and behind. Thus, and 
 from the like cause, parva si magnis , is the candid 
 covering of the dazzling summit of the Alpine 
 Jungfrau-horn ( absit allusio ) dissolved into hun- 
 
 u 
 
218 FERDINAND FllANCK. 
 
 dreds of fountains and streams, rushing forth to 
 the Lombard plains, as well as the hilly forests 
 of the holy Germanic Empire. 
 
 Mr. Bauer’s cornucopia of harmony was under 
 this said detersive operation, when the Major 
 requested him to put on his hat ; as a belief ex- 
 isted that few married men could pass under the 
 peculiar decoration of the gate, without their 
 hair rising into sympathetic electric-like approxi- 
 mation with the cervine embellishments above. 
 Mr. Bauer must have felt this as a home-stroke ; 
 for, while passing the furcce caudincs, as fearlessly 
 as the modem mariner clears Cape Horn, he told 
 the Major, that, what with the maxims inherited 
 from his illustrious parent, and other causes too 
 evident to be mentioned, he, Mr. Bauer, felt sure 
 that, if the hornwork in question was formidable 
 to married men only, the Major need not be 
 afraid of passing under it all the days of his 
 life. 
 
 The carriage stopped in the well-swept front 
 court, adorned with whitewashed statues of Diana, 
 Acteon, Nimrod, find other worthies of the chase — 
 most of them pitilessly mutilated, and all bescrib- 
 bled in pencil and red chalk. Although Caesar, a 
 few minutes before, seemed to be as much out of 
 the Major’s books as his Roman namesake was 
 detested by Cato, Brutus, Cassius, and other arch- 
 liberals of old, the peptic precepts to be givep to 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 219 
 
 the groom for the well-being of 66 the villanous 
 beast ” precluded a possibility of simultaneous at- 
 tention to Miss Waldheim and her uncle. It thus 
 fortunately fell to my share to discharge that de- 
 lightful duty, and to hand, next, some bandboxes, 
 pinned packages, and other articles of fair flirta- 
 bles — what a philosophical apparatus, thought I, 
 for the most intellectual of her sex ! — to a buxom 
 maid of the house, ready to receive the valuable 
 indispensables. 
 
 The wench’s yell at this very moment rings 
 through my ears — u Gracious me, Master Franck !” 
 FRANCK! FRANCK ! FRANCK! 
 
 FRANCK! resounded a treacherous echo: band- 
 boxes, pinned packages, and all the philosophical 
 apparatus, dropped from the girl’s hands and 
 apron; satin shoes, scarfs, ribbands, garlands of 
 mock-botanics, and all the fair flirtables, lay in 
 chaotic quodlibets on the sand, at the very foot of 
 the image of the Goddess of Chastity. 
 
 Would that this overwhelming scene could have 
 been graphicked for thee, gentle reader, that thou 
 mightst the more sympathize in my forlorn state, 
 which baffles the reach of letter-press. Sunk in 
 nothingness I stood, while my kind Mentor and 
 the waiters snatched up the fashionable cornu- 
 copias 
 
 u Ah ! Mr. Franck, you have forgotten Mary 
 Dickel, your old favourite. You have become too 
 
220 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 fine a ” Mr. Bauer, by way of sordino , clapped 
 
 his fleshy palm upon her mouth, and, like the 
 hand of the Virtuoso in the funnel of the French 
 horn, smothered farther utterance into mere 'pia- 
 nissimo fragments. 
 
 44 Is any thing the matter ?” exclaimed Amelia, 
 with participating curiosity, on looking back from 
 the flight of stone steps which she had already 
 reached. 
 
 44 Nothing particular, Miss Waldheim,” replied 
 the Major, whose hippologue was just finished : 
 44 the young man you brought in your carriage 
 has met with an old favourite, it seems, in the maid 
 of the house — that ’s all.” 
 
 To have been hidden for ever in the bowels of 
 the earth — to have been dissolved into non-exist- 
 ence — would at that mopient have been a welcome 
 fate. How I came to be stretched in despair on a 
 seat in an arbour at the very extremity of the gar- 
 den behind the house, is totally out of my recollec- 
 tion. 
 
 44 It ’s all up !” said Mr. Bauer, in a dry de- 
 sponding tone, as he entered the arbour out of 
 breath after me : 44 1 have seen the young woman 
 go with her cargo up to Miss Waldheim ; I should 
 not wonder if she was sent for. And mine — 
 mine” ( wiping a tear ) — 44 mine is the fault, for 
 wishing to ride in that accursed carriage, to save 
 
Page 220. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 221 
 
 my lazy bones a miserable quarter of an hour’s 
 .walk.” 
 
 u Let ’s home again ! not another minute will I 
 tarry in this unhallowed spot. HomeJ home ! 
 for God’s sake !” 
 
 u What! and give up the dinner? Nonsense, 
 my good Ferdinand : matters are unpromising, to 
 be sure ; but there is no need of making things still 
 worse.” 
 
 u They can’t be worse than they are, my dear 
 Mr. Bauer ; my evil star is pursuing me on this 
 ominous day. I am the victim of a dire fatality. 
 Scarcely had I succeeded in warding off the suspi- 
 cion of an attachment to the young Jewess, when 
 this unforeseen and disastrous rencontre with that 
 forward vixen plunges me anew into irretrievable 
 ruin.” 
 
 “ You are a sad dog, to be sure. That bump 
 in the nape, to which your good uncle called my 
 attention in his letter of introduction.... Craniolo- 
 gy, I begin to believe ” 
 
 “ Bump, Mr. Bauer ? I am, believe me, as in- 
 nocent in the one case as in the other, however 
 overwhelmingly appearances may rise in array 
 against me.” 
 
 “ What ! you have not ?” 
 
 Here I explained to my friend, in a few words, 
 the nature of my early acquaintance with Mary 
 v 3 
 
222 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 Uickel, appealing to my known veracity, and to 
 all that is most sacred, for the truth of my state- 
 ment. His joy was unbounded at this informa- 
 tion : he nearly stifled me with embraces. 
 
 “ Enough ! enough ! my dearest Ferdinand ; 
 all is well now, take my word for it. Thou shalt 
 be justified. This instant I will go to Miss Wald- 
 heim, to plead your innocent cause in the irresisti- 
 ble language of truth and friendship ; and then, if 
 she still persist in cherishing these worthless sus- 
 picions — well, then, in God’s name, let her have the 
 Major and all his stud and stables. She deserves 
 no better ” 
 
 u Who deserves no better ?” said Amelia, who 
 had, unobserved, turned the corner of the serpen- 
 tine path edged with yew, and at that moment 
 stood before us. 
 
 Mr. Bauer . u Miss Waldheim’s good sense must 
 make allowance for the warmth into which my 
 Jove for Ferdinand may have betrayed me. Look 
 at him, my dear Miss Waldheim, and ask your own 
 heart whether, innocent as he is of all the suspi- 
 cions which appearances are heaping against him, 
 he deserves to sink under the weight of misery 
 which overwhelms him. A few moments, and we 
 may be summoned to dinner. The time is too 
 precious, your understanding too discerning, to 
 admit of laboured explanations. As I live, as I 
 wish to die in peace, Ferdinand is guiltless ! his 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 223 
 
 heart, his whole being, allow me to speak out, is 
 consumed in the purest love towards you, Miss 
 Waldheim. Were it otherwise, you would See him 
 less wretched. The young woman, who is the 
 cause of all this, he knows no otherwise than as 
 one of ten or twelve pupils in his uncle’s evening- 
 school, where occasional indispositions of the latter 
 rendered it now and then proper, and in fact a 
 matter of duty, for poor Ferdinand to officiate.” 
 Amelia {smiling). “ A duty as praiseworthy as 
 it may have proved pleasing and successful ! And 
 what may have been the branches of learning in 
 which these country damsels profited by Mr. 
 Franck’s light of instruction ?” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u What else, Miss Waldheim, but 
 common reading, the Catechism, and a little writ- 
 ing ? a few pothooks, just to teach the poor things 
 to sign their names, and may -be make out a wash- 
 ing-bill.” 
 
 Amelia {jocularly). u The young woman’s grate- 
 ful memory is at variance with this modest sylla- 
 bus of instruction. She gives Mr. Franck credit 
 for tuition of a very superior kind.” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u What else, Ferdinand, did they 
 learn at Feldberg? Oh! to be sure, a little 
 psalm-singing for Sunday-service — a matter of 
 course, and extremely proper ; in that Ferdinand 
 was the man for them, I vouch.” 
 
 Amelia {with a rustic accent). u <• Your ladyship 
 
224 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 must know that Master Franck always was mon- 
 strous kind to me, for all I was often kept after 
 hours when I spoiled a copy : to be sure, I spoiled 
 many a one on purpose.’ *’ 
 
 Mr . Bauer . 44 Idle prattling, Miss Waldheim, 
 
 — not worth your notice.” 
 
 Amelia ( continuing ). 44 6 And many a kiss I had 
 
 for doing the second copy well, when * ” 
 
 Mrs. Bauer. 44 What a bouncer !” 
 
 Amelia . 44 4 Your ladyship may believe me or 
 
 not ; but if I had as many six-batzners as those re- 
 wards would count up to, I might buy clothes 
 enough to be as fine a lady as Master Franck has 
 made himself a gentleman — that I might.’ ” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. 44 Oh, the vixen !” 
 
 Amelia. 44 4 But Master Franck has got among the 
 great folks, and thinks no longer of Mary Dickel ; 
 though, if the truth were known, I be the cause 
 of his good luck.’ ” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. 44 Have you ever heard ?” 
 
 Amelia. 44 4 Ay, ay; somehow or other his uncle 
 found out we were intimated, and, looking over 
 some big Latin book that he was studying day and 
 night, God forgive him ! he found that Master 
 Franck couldn’t help being loving of me, because 
 as how he had a great big bump at the back of his 
 head; and so you see, Ma’am, rather than he 
 should have me, they sent him into the ...... 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 225 
 
 wide world, that we might never see 
 
 each other again : now, warn’t that cruel ?’ ” 
 
 Mr. Bauer. u Oh, the wretch ! She is bribed, 
 Miss Waldheim, to aid in poor Ferdinand’s ruin ; 
 have her up this instant. But no ! I ’ll not 
 spoil my appetite for such a worthless jade ! To- 
 morrow morning, if I am alive, I ’ll have her 
 taken up for defamation ; and, if there ’s justice 
 in the land, you shall see whether I don’t clap her 
 into Bridewell upon bread and water for three 
 months.” 
 
 Amelia. “You’ll want me as a witness, Mr. 
 Bauer ; and I can take my oath as to the words 
 spoken : but how shall we prove their falsehood, 
 to obtain a verdict and condign punishment ? — 
 Will they admit Mr. Franck’s evidence? Of 
 course he is ready to affirm, upon oath, that there 
 is not a word of truth in these slanderous accusa- 
 tions. We may depend upon you, Mr. Franck, in 
 this momentous cause, may we not ?” 
 
 The appeal was too direct to admit of equivo- 
 cation, if I had been capable of resorting to arti- 
 fice. With the sincerity due to the occasion 
 and to my character, I candidly acknowledged 
 that Mary’s tale to a certain degree was founded 
 in truth ; although she had, in her vanity, embel- 
 lished and exaggerated every part of her story. 
 “ But,” said I, u if her inferences have been too 
 
226 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 sanguine, let them remain matter of opinion on 
 her part. You have heard all, Miss Waldheim ! 
 If, in the effervescence of a youthful age, an in- 
 nocent partiality to a sprightly companion of my 
 younger <iays be culpable, I stand convicted; 
 but by the fervid love which pervades my heart — 
 by the paternal friendship of this excellent man — 
 I solemnly protest, the occasional and slight inter- 
 course that has existed between us was pure and 
 guiltless.” 
 
 Mr, Bauer, “Pure and guiltless, Miss Wald- 
 heim ! Well said, my boy ! Yours is the eloquence 
 of sacred truth. His tongue, Miss Waldheim, is 
 the mirror of his thoughts ; his heart as pure as 
 gold, as transparent as crystal ; not a discord in 
 his whole being ! Behold that noble countenance, 
 Miss Waldheim, and if you can find it in your 
 heart to ” 
 
 66 His Excellency desires me to say,” inter- 
 rupted a servant, “ that some of the company are 
 driving up the avenue, and he would be glad if 
 Miss Waldheim would join him to receive them.” 
 
 “ I fear we must give up the action and Bride- 
 well, Mr. Bauer,” said Amelia, with the winning 
 smile peculiar to her. “ Have an eye upon this 
 pure and transparent pupil of yours ; with all his 
 innocence, the big Latin book of his worthy uncle, 
 and the great big bump at the ba#k of the ne- 
 phew’s head, are monitors not to be disregarded. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 227 
 
 Cheer him up, Mr. Bpuer ; we must have no long 
 faces on my birthday.” 
 
 49 . 
 
 THE JEW’S HARP. 
 
 The revival of my spirits rendered Mr. Bauer’s 
 aid unnecessary ; while his own, with a fluctua- 
 tion inherent in his susceptible nature, exhibited 
 a state of buoyant exaltation. One thing only 
 weighed sorely on his mind — the unaccountable 
 delay of the dinner-hour, and the deep regret at 
 not having 'taken u some little matter” to prevent 
 the vacuum in his internal economy— -an omission 
 which he feared would operate as a great draw- 
 back on the enjoyment of the approaching pleasures 
 of the table ; but his good humour was not to be 
 disturbed on the present occasion. In an accent 
 of chuckling comfort, he exclaimed, u All is now 
 as it should be, my boy ! this little scene, depend 
 upon it, has done no harm. Love is not the bet- 
 ter for a smooth unruffled course ; a little dose of 
 cross-purposes, like salt strewed over the fire, im- 
 parts excitement and vigour to the flame ! But as 
 the dose has been quite strong enough for once, 
 we must guard against farther mischief. If that 
 said Mary Dickel was again to fall in your way—, 
 and the hussy is forward enough to waylay you- 
 then the fat would be in the fire with a vengeance ! 
 
228 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 If I could prevail upon the landlord to lock her up 
 for three or four hours, it would be a great thing : 
 at all events, he must be told to keep her at a 
 distance ; and this very moment I ” 
 
 A lusty peal from the dinner-bell interrupted 
 the speaker. u Das klinget so herrlich , das klinget 
 so fein * he exclaimed in a transport of joy, 
 observing that another peal would follow this dul- 
 cet note of preparation in a few minutes : and the 
 contemplated wise precaution dwindled to the 
 half-measure of his proposing to form an advanced 
 guard as far as the hall, and, in case he espied 
 the enemy, to announce danger by three distinct 
 coughs. 
 
 Our apprehensions were agreeably disappoint- 
 ed ; we reached in safety the cool vestibule, where 
 three of Mr. Bauer’s senses received delightful 
 preparatory intimation of the treat awaiting the 
 fourth and most honoured member of the quintum- 
 virate. Not to mention ranges of bottles, like 
 electric batteries, absorbing frigoric in polished 
 pails and tubs ; and the richest odours of soups, 
 sauces, sweets, and sours, dearer to him than the 
 most costly -perfumes of Provence or Arabia Felix ; 
 the rattling mechanism of spits in the neighbour- 
 ing laboratory; the rhythmical clatter of chop- 
 . pers ; the swashy batter of ladles ; the vibrating 
 clatter of pots and pans, and sundry other culi- 
 
 * “ Oh 5 dolce concento,’* &c. — Mozart . 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 229 
 
 nary noises, intermixed with the hurried com- 
 mands of cooks, and the more submissive re-j 
 sponses of scullions ; this chaotic charivari of 
 sounds without number so completely ravished 
 the musical ears of my famished friend, as he was 
 dusting his attire in an adjoining closet, that he 
 scrupled not to liken the performance to the finest 
 concert, the cooks to solo-players, the scullions 
 to ripieni , and the noble culinary art altogether 
 to the sublime science of composition. 
 
 The antique saloon into which we were ushered 
 was filled with many guests of the higher ranks 
 and of both sexes ; there were abundance of epau- 
 lettes, some stars and other decorations, ladies in 
 the richest and most fanciful attire ; and, amongst 
 these, youthful beauties, of whose charms Ame- 
 lia’s image alone could have rendered me a cool 
 observer. It was a new world for me ; yet, no- 
 vice as I felt myself, I saw the impropriety of 
 keeping Mr. Bauer company in a retired corner, 
 and with a courage and good grace inconceiyable 
 to me at this time, I passed forward to pay my 
 respects to Amelia and Baron Dohm. For an in- 
 stant the latter seemed as if he were a little struck 
 with my boldness ; or perhaps he might have had 
 some intimation of the awkward scene in the 
 court-yard : but, in the best spirits as he was, 
 Baron Dohm received me with affability, and 
 even introduced me to several grand personages 
 
 x 
 
230 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 in his neighbourhood, as a particular friend of his 
 old acquaintance Baron Wolditz, and as a young 
 gentleman zealously devoted to music, and deeply 
 skilled in the science ; and glancing at a paper 
 ingeniously attached to the interior of his gold 
 snuff-box, he took me by the hand, and presented 
 me to Madame von Sternthal and her daughter 
 as the gentleman who would have the honour of 
 their neighbourhood at table, Baron Dohm seem- 
 ed to enjoy the happy day : he was cheerful and 
 attentive to every one ; and expressed his hope 
 that, in this rural retreat, all forms and fetters of 
 etiquette would yield to uncontrolled good hu- 
 mour and conviviality. 
 
 Thus I soon began to feel at home and join 
 freely in the conversation, which was the less dif- 
 ficult to me, as, by virtue of the reigning mania of 
 the capital, music seemed to be the ruling topic 
 of discussion. 
 
 The dolce concento of Mr. Bauer-^-the second 
 peal for dinner — resounded ; and I conducted my 
 new neighbours, mother and daughter, to their 
 destination. Our seats were, in an oblique di- 
 rection, opposite to Miss Waldheim, whom I 
 beheld, with inward regret, placed next to my 
 odious rival, Major Dornhoff ; and Mr. Bauer 
 I saw snugly located at the lower end of the 
 table, amidst some guests of probably inferior 
 note, but equally willing with himself to make 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 231 
 
 tlie best “of the good things before them — for the 
 napkins pendent from their button-holes bespoke 
 their good intentions to conduct themselves in a 
 zealous and workmanlike manner on the impor- 
 tant occasion. 
 
 It was cruel of Baron Dohm to assort my in- 
 dividuality with so conversable, so vivacious, so 
 bewitching a little brunette as Mademoiselle von 
 Sternthal, to whose charms I felt a secret convic- 
 tion my unhappy phrenological conformation must 
 have rendered me a victim, but for the fortunate 
 chance of prior occupancy. Priority is a pow- 
 erful non-conductor in affairs of the heart. I felt 
 the efficacy of the preservative ; and, feeling 
 secure, I saw no reason for not acting up to 
 Baron Dohm’s exhortation, by rendering myself 
 as agreeable, and playing the amiable to my 
 sprightly neighbour as much as I could. Music 
 being again brought under discussion, she asked 
 me whether I knew Denzi's Notturnos for the 
 harp ; to which I replied, that unfortunately I 
 was unacquainted with that instrument. 
 
 44 Don’t believe Mr. Franck’s modesty, my 
 dear Emma,” unexpectedly said Miss Waldheim, 
 who had for some time noticed our animated con- 
 verse. 44 He is a great connoisseur, I assure you.” 
 
 44 On the harp, Miss Waldheim ?” 
 
 44 To be sure. I know he has played solos on 
 the Jew's- harp, and duvetts too.” 
 
232 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 I thought this stroke of satire rather severe and 
 uncalled for. “True! true!” I said, with equal 
 significancy, “ merely by way of experiment; but a 
 lady for whom I entertain the utmost regard seems 
 to he particularly averse to that kind of music, and 
 so I mean to discontinue practising altogether.” 
 
 “ The lady is very much in the right,” added 
 the plump little Madame von Sternthal. “ They 
 must be ruinous things for a fine set of teeth like 
 yours, Mr. Franck — particularly when they are 
 made of brass, as I have seen them ; and a vast 
 disfigurement to the mouth : throw them out of 
 the window, by all means, Mr. Franck. You no 
 doubt perform upon some other instrument more 
 becoming and graceful ?” 
 
 “ A little on several, Madame von Sternthal ; 
 but principally the violin and forte-piano.” 
 
 “ Charming ! charming ! We have a little mu- 
 sic every Monday, and shall be happy to see you 
 whenever it is convenient. Emma has some 
 sweet pretty things with a violin to them, which 
 you shall try with her.” 
 
 “ Do come next Monday,” said Miss Emma; 
 “ we mostly finish with a little dance when mam- 
 ma is in good-humour.” 
 
 “ Fie, Emma ! as if I ever were otherwise. 
 You shall have a dance, by all means; and a 
 fiddler on purpose shall be no object.” 
 
 u Mr. Franck,” said Miss Waldheim, inter- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 233 
 
 rupting us again, “ I am sure, will be delighted to 
 fiddle for you all night long.” 
 
 « Play at a dance, Miss Waldheim ?” exclaimed 
 in surprise Mr. Bauer from the lower end of the 
 table : “ not whilst there are dozens of waltz- 
 scrapers to be hired for a six-batzner a-piece. Mr. 
 Franck, I am sure, is too deeply impressed with 
 the noble object of the sublimest of all arts to be 
 instrumental in its degradation. 
 
 “ Bravo ! well said !” vociferated one of Mr. 
 Bauer’s jovial and waggish companions, who ap- 
 peared to have taken him iitto their protection 
 and kind keeping, rivaling each other in admi- 
 nistering to his sensual appetites the solid and 
 liquid delicacies which cost them nothing but the 
 trouble of asking for. u The most sublime of the 
 Fine Arts !” was drunk in a bumper in that 
 lower house of beaux esprits ; their decanters 
 were dispatched every now and then to the side- 
 board, and returned with full cargoes ; for the 
 toasts proposed to Mr. Bauer in honour of the 
 most sublime of the Fine Arts followed each other 
 in rapid succession* Many, of course, did not 
 reach my ears ; but whenever my attention was 
 caught by the pin forte challenges of the merry 
 coterie below, some celebrated name was the object 
 of their assiduous libations. Handel , Sebastian 
 Bach, Gluck , and Haydn , received ample honours, 
 individually, at the hands of these inspired wor- 
 x 3 
 
234 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 shipper's ; and when Mozart was propounded, Mr. 
 Bauer, with glistening eyes, and accents betraying 
 his emotion, declared that the health of the divine 
 author of Idomeneo , whose birth he considered as 
 the choicest gift Heaven ever bestowed upon the 
 German people, ought not in justice to be drunk 
 in any thing but pink Champaign, the true nectar 
 of composers, the favourite beverage of the great 
 genius himself, and, like him, sparkling, full of 
 setherial vivifying spirit, heavenly sweetness, and 
 nervous vigour. “ Like Homer,” he added with 
 a faltering voice and tears in his eyes, on pre- 
 senting the slender crystal cone for a da capo , 
 u like Homer, our Mozart seems to belong to a- 
 higher cla — -class of be — beings ; like the poems of 
 Homer, his works will for ages to come st — stamp 
 with comp — parative mediocrity what otherwise 
 would have been thought great and masterly. We 
 are toiling in vain, gentlemen,” he exclaimed, 
 sobbing; u we cannot be Mozarts !” u But we are 
 Bauefs !” said No. 2 of the waggish triumvirate. 
 
 Here *s Dido ; and may Clorinda , her nascent 
 successor, equal the charms of the beautiful sister !” 
 
 Mr. Bauer made an attempt to acknowledge, in 
 a neat speech, the compliment which No. 2 paid 
 to the emanations of his Muse, but vox faucibus 
 h&9it ; and happily he was relieved from the pain- 
 ful oratoric effort by the rising of the company, 
 and their proceeding to the drawing-room, whither 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 235 
 
 I conducted my fair motherly neighbour and her 
 sparkling brunette daughter. 
 
 50 . 
 
 NON EST INVENTUS. 
 
 « His Excellency would be glad to see Mr. 
 Franck immediately,” whispered one of the ser- 
 vants, in the midst of an animated discussion with 
 Miss Emma and a learned privy councillor on 
 the advantage of restoring the Greek chorus in 
 the German serious drama. 
 
 The servant conducted me to an apartment 
 filled with some twelve or fifteen professional in- 
 strumentalists and my old friend, Monsieur Dupre, 
 the ballet-master, amidst whom Baron Dohm, in 
 his laced coat, embroidered satin waistcoat, and 
 richly powdered wig, appeared like the resplendent 
 Delian god presiding in the Pierian band. “ We 
 are all ready for the ballet, Mr. Franck,” said his 
 Excellency: u pray see where Mr. Bauer is, and 
 beg him to come forthwith.” 
 
 He was not in the drawing-room; in vain I 
 made the round of the house, in vain his name 
 was vociferated through the long and re-echoing 
 corridors. Anxious for his safety, I ran into the 
 garden. Alas, for the vanity of human pride ! the 
 author of Clorinda and Dido lay stretched on a 
 bench in the self-same arbour to which we had 
 
236 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 retired before dinner : his condition and its cause 
 were but too obvious. « You are wanted imme- 
 diately to lead at the piano, every thing is ready :” 
 we roused him with difficulty, but, alas ! instead 
 of leading others, he woefully stood in need of 
 that aid — he was utterly helpless. It was as much 
 as we could do to lead him into the house, and 
 deposit his impotent and misgiving limbs on a bed 
 of rest, where he kept muttering thick-tongued 
 and unconnected rhapsodies about scores, Haydn 
 and Mozart, and the sublime tendency of the 
 divine art. 
 
 I had hoped to excuse Mr. Bauer on the ground 
 of sudden indisposition ; but bad news travels on 
 wings. The Baron was informed of my poor 
 friend’s condition when I returned, and deeply in- 
 censed at seeing his fond hopes thus miserably dis- 
 appointed. Full of disgust and despair, he threw 
 himself into an arm-chair, exclaiming with bitter- 
 ness : “ I deserve it, I deserve it : this is the con- 
 sequence of making common fellowship with the 
 vulgar : had I not in my folly asked him to 
 dinner, he would not have bestialized himself— 
 Gentlemen,” {rising from his chair ,) “the affair is 
 at an end — before it began, indeed ! — you are at 
 liberty to depart whenever it suits you. The baF 
 let cannot take place.” 
 
 44 Est-il possible /” exclaimed Monsieur J)uprd, 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 237 
 
 in despair, “ Quel malheur ! what misfortune l 
 mais , mon Dieu, Monsieur le Baron , n'y-a-fil 
 point de remede ? is dere no elp at all ? Assure - 
 ment we can trey de ding wissout Monsieur 
 Bauer.” 
 
 “ And be laughed at here, and laughed at to- 
 morrow by all the capital ! No, Monsieur Dupre, 
 the representation is out of the question. 
 
 44 Mais votre Excellence , permettez moi de vous 
 assurer , allow me to assure your Excellence upon 
 honor, all my people are parfaits , dey know deir 
 parts, jusqu'au dernier pas ; fen reponds . Vat 
 
 is dere need for de piano wid all dese gentlemen, 
 qui sont de la premiere force 
 
 Baron Dohm’s answer consisted in a mere ne- 
 gative shake of the powdered wig. In this state 
 of despair I ventured to suggest the possibility of 
 my supplying, in some degree, Mr. Bauer’s place, 
 as I was not altogether unacquainted with the 
 score, besides its including some selections well 
 known to me. 
 
 u Mais bete que je suis de ne pas y avoir pense ! 
 What stupide I most be !” exclaimed Monsieur 
 Duprd in an ecstacy of joy, nearly stifling me with 
 embraces. “ Voild notre ange tutelaire , c'est notre 
 homme precisement. He shall do de piano as well, 
 I say bettair as Monsieur Bauer — II est rempli de 
 talent , notre charmant Franque ; et pour la danse , 
 
338 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 il s’y connoit, je vous en reponds, he know every 
 step, every mouvement ; he understand le style pan - 
 tomime ; he ” 
 
 “ CouId y° u really venture to undertake the 
 tjisk, Mr. Franck?” asked the Baron with a 
 beaming countenance, pressing my hand with cor- 
 dial content. 
 
 “ I think I may safely promise it, if your 
 Excellency will allow me ten minutes for perusing 
 the score once more, during which time these gen- 
 tlemen might perform some overture or symphony 
 to entertain the company.” 
 
 “ Charming ! my dear, my worthy young 
 friend, your kind and spirited offer has laid me 
 under eternal obligations. I shall endeavour to 
 seize an early opportunity of evincing my grati- 
 tude. But no time is to be lost at present ; let me 
 see you to-morrow at twelve.” 
 
 u If I might be permitted to ask one favour ?’ 
 
 “ A thousand, my dear Mr. Franck ! Speak, 
 what can I do to serve you?” 
 
 u 1° think no more of the accidental error into 
 which Mr. Bauer has fallen- — to restore that 
 worthy man to your Excellency’s gracious friend- 
 ship.” 
 
 u You have effected this already, my dear Mr. 
 Franck, by supplying his place,” said the Baron, 
 with some emotion “ but this will not be the 
 way in which our accounts are to be settled. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 230 
 
 More of that to-morrow. — Now to the saloon, 
 gentlemen, and the symphony ; while I go and 
 bring the audience, and Mr. Franck casts his eye 
 over the score and the programme of the action.” 
 
 The old gentleman’s effort at allegory could 
 not, at all events, be taxed with obscurity. 
 
 Charis , the most beautiful shepherdess in Paphos , 
 had hitherto , of all the virgins in the sacred island , 
 alone defied the omnipotent influence of the Patron 
 Goddess . At the opening of the piece , the nymph 
 is discovered by Venus sleeping in a myrtle grove ; 
 the goddess , grieved at the resistance offered to her 
 power , summons Cupid , gives her orders and re- 
 tires . Charis awakes; the insinuating urchin tries 
 in vain his blandishments and arts of persuasion ; 
 he neoct resorts to his quiver , but the shafts either 
 miss or are caught and broken by their intended 
 victim . Cupid now determines on more substantial 
 means of attack : he introduces the handsomest 
 swain of the isle , who declares his passion amidst 
 gifts of roses , turtle-doves , and a milk-white kid , 
 and is heard with apparent complacency , but, after 
 being amused with idle hopes , rejected with deri- 
 sion. The next presentation consists in a young 
 elegantly bearded philosopher and poet , with his 
 volumes , instruments , fyc. His verses gain the 
 approbation of Charis ; he demonstrates the neces- 
 sity of the tender passion , and proves it , moreover , 
 by reference to his books ; but Charis has a peep at 
 
240 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 the looks , too ; she points at a page inscribed , 
 Amour— Esclavage, where , unfortunately , the 
 little tyrant is seen dragging in chains half a dozen 
 crouching nymphs ; and the out-argued candidate 
 is compelled to retire in disappointment . But the 
 little god has one more string to his bow ; he returns 
 with a young bard— (rather personal, I thought) 
 —-the magic of sweet sounds at one time appears irre- 
 sistible ; but Char is, recovering from the temporary 
 fascination , seizes his lyre , and mimicking his 
 strains , plays him out of countenance and out 
 of the field. 
 
 Cupid, in despair, flies to his mother for advice; 
 Venus resents severely his want of resources and 
 exertions, and threatens, in case of failure, to de- 
 prive him of his weapons. A last effort is resorted 
 to. As the military seldom fail of success with the 
 fair, a young warrior, with sword, shield, and 
 plumed helmet, is led forth to try his chance. 
 Charis is struck with the martial charms of the 
 man-at-arms ; her heart seems to yield, while she 
 blushes at her iveakness ; she flies, the hero pursues 
 — hide and seek — a myrtle bush seems to offer con- 
 cealment, but the man-at-arms quickly reaches the 
 Paphian evergreen, which, at the command of 
 Venus, changes into a temple . The Graces, by 
 winding garlands of roses around, prevent further 
 escape, and the Bee. Mr. Hymen is at hand to do 
 the needful. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 241 
 
 Upon running cursorily over the programme, 
 of which the above may serve as a concise sketch, 
 the oddity of my impending functions presented 
 itself forcibly — “What,” said I to myself, “as- 
 sist, nay, take the lead, in playing my rival fairly 
 into the temple of Hymen ? Charming ! most 
 disinterested task of suicidal self-devotion in the^, 
 thou patient and complying Ferdinand Franck ! 
 And thy Amelia ! how everlastingly will she not 
 deem herself indebted for thy generous assistance : 
 and the Major, the man-at-arms, the man of the 
 shield and plumed helmet, what but a mercenary 
 hireling must he think thee in thus aiding in the 
 accomplishment of his designs !” 
 
 In my present temper of mind, however, these 
 considerations, instead of presenting themselves in 
 a serious form, assumed but a ludicrous shape. 
 Danger from the Major is out of the question. 
 The apology which Baron Dohm is to make to the 
 audience will sufficiently explain the state of the 
 case to Amelia ; she cannot but smile at the ridi- 
 culousness of my situation and the futility of the 
 expedient to pantomime her into wedlock. The 
 Major’s disappointment and my triumph will 
 only be the greater after the failure of this at- 
 tempt. Besides, whispered Ambition, this unex- 
 pected display of my musical abilities, before per- 
 sons of the first rank in the capital, cannot fail 
 to influence public opinion greatly in my favour ; 
 
242 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 and, above all, insures me the friendship and good 
 graces of Amelia’s uncle. Lose such an opportu- 
 nity evidently presented by my lucky star ? — No, 
 no, my valiant Major ; thou shalt’ have my wel- 
 come aid ; the hymeneal march shall be played to 
 thee most conscientiously ; if thou stumblest, ’tis 
 thy business. 
 
 Se vuol ballare, Signor Maggiore, 
 
 II Chitarino le suonero. 
 
 51. 
 
 SYMPTOMS OF THE BUM?. 
 
 With this inspiriting thought, I entered the 
 saloon, as the symphony was drawing to its ter- 
 minating climax. At its conclusion, Baron Dohm 
 rose from his seat, and mentioned the sudden and 
 unforeseen call for my assistance. Encouraging 
 plaudits ensued; the party were distributed; I 
 nodded to the leading violin ; the rap of his bow, 
 like a magic wand, changed the active hum of 
 the auditors into silent and mystic suspense, until 
 at one crash, a unison C, from all the instru- 
 ments, announced the commencement of the dra- 
 matic overture. Conscious of my power, I led 
 the musical phalanx vigorously on through Mr. 
 Bauer’s mazes of melody and harmony ; the com- 
 pany, especially the ladies, evinced capitally their 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 243 
 
 innate sense of time and measure. Baron Dohm’s 
 beaming visage, like a Chinese mandarin, nodded 
 continuous applause; Amelia’s cheering counte- 
 nance telegraphed her inward pleasure at my suc- 
 cess ; and no sooner had the performance reached 
 the known formulas of finish, than the delighted 
 auditory, impatient of further delay, set up a stun- 
 ning tutti of clapping, which rendered the active 
 and energetic functions of the orchestra a mere 
 matter of vision. “Bravo! bravo! Mr. Franck!” 
 exclaimed the enraptured Baron Dohm, followed by 
 numberless “ Bravos ,” and u Bravissimos ,” from 
 every part of the reverberating saloon. The an- 
 dante 'pastorale began ; the curtain rose. On 
 pasteboard turf, of slipper-bath shape, sweetly 
 slumbering lay 
 
 Merciful Heavens ! do my eyes deceive me — It is 
 
 Victorine, the little figurante, my My heart 
 
 for a moment sunk within me, my fingers refused 
 their office. Happily the orchestra proceeded un- 
 led ; and Venus suffered no interruption in the in- 
 structions she had to give to Cupid — I ventured 
 to cast a side glance towards Miss Waldheim ; by 
 her looks I had reason to hope that my embarrass- 
 ment had escaped her notice. I recovered in some 
 degree my self-possession ; but on resuming the 
 score, I beheld at no great distance the fearful 
 words — Charis awakes gradually.” Heavens! 
 
244 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 what will be the unsuspecting girl *s feelings ! what 
 my forlorn condition at that awful chord ! well 
 might I say 
 
 lo perdero la pace, 
 
 Quando si sveglierk. 
 
 .Reflecting, however, that distressing as was 
 my situation, there was no earthly remedy but 
 to let events take their course, and not add to 
 their untowardness by any want of resolution on 
 my part, I played on mechanically, with eyes ri- 
 vetted on my book, and with trembling hand en- 
 tered upon the fatal passage of enharmonic mo- 
 dulation, on which perhaps hung the whole of my 
 future happiness. 
 
 Poor Victorine ! with infinite grace did she com- 
 mence her arduous part ; her eyes opened gradu- 
 ally and closed again ; her pretty little arm waved 
 softly towards her forehead ; she rose gently into 
 some fascinating attitudes, preceding, within a few 
 bars, the more active business of her part. — Alas ! 
 at that moment she must have seen me ; I heard a 
 stifled sound, and saw the lovely girl sink uncon- 
 scious on the pasteboard turf. — 
 
 u Qu'allez vous faire done , Ma'mselleV ’ ex- 
 claimed the hectic voice of the enraged Monsieur 
 Dupr4 from behind the wing close to her. u Vite , 
 vite , ne faites pas la sotte , commences: votre pas seul 
 tout de suite. Begin de pas seul direckly, I say, or 
 I will break a’ your bones, savez-vous 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 245 
 
 Finding that, at this encouraging exhortation, 
 the poor girl raised herself mechanically from the 
 painted couch, the thought luckily flashed on my 
 mind, that a kind and friendly look from me 
 might possibly revive her spirits. The expedient 
 had the desired effect — as far as related to Victo- 
 rine ; she smiled — she came in front — the music 
 recommenced— .her elegant limbs performed grace- 
 fully the saltatorian functions — applause from all 
 quarters inspired her ambition ; even Monsieur 
 Dupr£, no longer disposed to break bones, every 
 now and then exclaimed from behind “ Bravo , 
 bravo , ma petite mignonne ! — Charmant , ma chere! 
 —*She danse divainely to-day, comme un ange , ab- 
 soiument .” 
 
 My eyes fixed on the score, I heard Major Dorn- 
 hoff’s stentorian praise, addressed to his neigh- 
 bour, Miss Waldheim. u By G — he exclaimed, 
 u how excessively clever she is, and vastly pretty 
 
 too !” u — Excessively ” (the important epithet 
 
 of admiration, or dispraise applied by Miss Wald- 
 heim, whatever it may have been, unfortunately 
 
 escaped my hearing). u Excessively ” at all 
 
 events, was all I could distinctly make of it. u Oh ! 
 that ’s part of their business,” said Major Dornhoff 
 in reply; u but with, all that, you may depend upon 
 it, Miss Waldheim, not a little of the manege must 
 have been required to bring her to this perfection. 
 She will make her fortune if she minds what she is 
 y 3 
 
246 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 about ; but these gentry mostly end by floundering 
 headlong into some silly attachment or other.” 
 u No man ” 
 
 The rest was again inaudible, perhaps to the Ma- 
 jor himself ; for the fair, when not best pleased, 
 besides being laconic in their remarks, cadence them 
 at no great sacrifice of breath ; and it was mani- 
 fest that Miss Waldheim took a very negative sort 
 of interest in the exhibition. 
 
 Little Victorine, on the other hand, every now 
 and then cast a significant, I might say a wanton 
 side-glance towards me, and appeared to grow more 
 and more animated ; she not only threw infinite 
 spirit and humour into her part, but superadded 
 much unauthentic by-play. Thus, in sending the 
 bearded sage about his business, she seized, no 
 doubt intentionally, his venerable chin-furniture, 
 which, not being made to stand such usage, re- 
 mained fairly in her hand. 
 
 u Ah , coquine /” vociferated Monsieur Dupre, 
 from the wing, while a stifled mutter of genteel ri- 
 sibility ran through the audience, and a vulgar 
 laugh resounded from an open side-door, at which 
 the waiters, cooks, scullions, and maids of the 
 house, had modestly taken post to enjoy a peep at 
 the show. 
 
 On looking that way— ^Heavens ! there was 
 Mary Dickel in the very front rank ; loudest in 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 247 
 
 the laugh, whimpering and winking — Ah, good 
 reader ! if thou hadst seen poor Ferdinand Franck 
 at that distressing moment, thou wouldst have 
 pitied his forlorn, his desperate state. 
 
 amelia! * 
 
 £ 
 
 . > 
 pi 
 
 *3 • 
 
 g 
 o 
 
 M 
 f* 
 
 ; j i axmoxoiA 
 
 Behold the threefold misery in array against me, 
 all within sight of me and each other ! What ran- 
 corous evil star, what unheard-of combination of 
 persecuting fatality could have thus conspired my 
 ruin ! 
 
 My hands sank paralysed from the key-board; 
 fortunately, the fiddles plodded on unled, and gave 
 me time to breathe. u Brave all,” whispered U 
 good genius within me ; u the harper, your own 
 emblem, is entering the scene ; a failure would be 
 ominous.” — My spirits rallied once more ; I re- 
 sumed the arduous task, and soon proceeded with 
 increased animation. Victorine, too, played the 
 scene con amove , as if it had a hidden meaning ; 
 the harper found more grace and tenderness than 
 
 Pm 
 
 Pm 
 
24,8 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 what the programme prescribed; and when she 
 seized his lyre, she preposterously enough kissed 
 it and pressed it to her bosom. 
 
 44 Ce n'est pas cela , you stupide !” exclaimed 
 a£ain the invisible monitor, Monsieur Dupre ; 
 44 jlanquez la lyre, et faites le promener.” So the poor 
 lyrist made his exit, nobody could tell why. The 
 performance, however, proceeded in its course sa- 
 tisfactorily. The audience, making due allowance 
 for what they took to be casual imperfections, ex- 
 pressed their approbation repeatedly, save and ex- 
 cept Miss Waldheim, who, with the stage in front 
 and the unhallowed side-door on her left^ grew 
 more and more indifferent and even pensive; 
 while Major Dornhoff, in proportion as he began, 
 towards the conclusion, to unravel the allegory, 
 took increased interest and delight in the specta- 
 cle. No sooner did the young warrior, with 
 sword and shield and plumed helmet, make his 
 appearance, than the Major triumphantly exclaim- 
 ed : 44 This one will settle the business, — Miss 
 Waldheim, what do you say?’’ and when Charis 
 and the man-at-arms had reached the spreading 
 myrtfe, and the myrtle changed into a temple, and 
 the officious nymphs encircled the columns with 
 garlands of roses, the Major’s joy knew no bounds. 
 He rose from his seat in his glossy jet cuirassier- 
 boots, and clapped and bravoed with all his physi- 
 cal might, exclaiming triumphantly : 44 A capital 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 249 
 
 piece, by G — ! never saw a better thing ! mon- 
 strous clever! Didn’t I tell you, Miss Wald- 
 heim, he would have her ?” 
 
 u If it is so,” replied Amelia, u you will 
 allow it ’s through no merit of his ; and he has at 
 all events no cause to pride himself on entrapping 
 her in a cage, from which she will escape at the 
 first opportunity.” 
 
 u That will be his fault, I reckon observed 
 the enraptured Major with his usual courtesy. 
 u W e are not in the habit of taking strong places 
 without leaving a good garrison to take care of 
 them.” 
 
 52. 
 
 MORE BEAUTIES THAN ONE. 
 
 The brutal remarks of Major Dornhoff, while 
 they filled my breast with disgust, excited feelings 
 of intense sympathy for Miss Waldheim. My soul 
 was harrowed on beholding her dejected and forlorn 
 looks. u If she loves thee,” said I to myself, u it 
 is for thee to set her mind at ease by instant ex- 
 planation.” I forthwith sought an opportunity of 
 speaking to Amelia, whom I saw in conversation 
 with an old colonel of artillery ; but no sooner had 
 I reached the spot and bowed to her, than she 
 drew in her lips, took leave of the colonel, return- 
 ed a slight stiff nod, as if we had never seen each 
 
250 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 other, and passed me in her way to another part of 
 the saloon. 
 
 At that moment Baron Dohm came up. u I 
 have been looking for you, Mr. Franck,” he said, 
 u to thank you for your very kind and very able 
 assistance. Every body is delighted with your 
 performance, and I have had to answer all sorts of 
 questions about you, from the ladies in particular, 
 ever since the conclusion of the piece. It went off 
 remarkably well, I think, and every body is of the 
 same opinion. I should not be surprised to have 
 to do it again before the Grand-Duke. Count 
 Erlach, the Earl Marshal, has just now hinted at 
 the thing, and I should be glad to introduce you 
 to him.” 
 
 I thanked the Baron ; but begged he would first 
 permit me to step down and see how Mr. Bauer 
 was. On leaving him he kindly pressed my hand, 
 requested I would return as soon as possible, and 
 a't all events not forget to be with him the next 
 morning. 
 
 I found Mr. Bauer’s situation more serious than 
 I had expected. The immediate effects of the 
 wine and good living had subsided, but his pulse 
 indicated a high state of fever ; his skin felt like 
 burning fire : he complained of acute internal 
 pains, and wished to return to town immediately. 
 As, under such alarming symptoms, this really ap- 
 peared the most eligible course, and my mind, be- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 251 
 
 sides, was not in a temper to desire a longer stay 
 at Monplaisir, I ordered a chaise, went up to ex- 
 plain to the Baron the necessity of our departure, 
 and to take my leave of Amelia, whom I could not 
 find it in my heart to quit without some explana- 
 tion of matters past, or at least without the con- 
 viction of a restored good understanding. Not 
 finding her in the saloon, and the guests being by 
 this time dispersed in different parts of the house 
 and the pleasure-grounds, I sent, perhaps impro- 
 perly enough, a message, communicating the cause 
 of my retiring, and my wish to take leave of her. 
 The messenger returned to say that Miss Wald- 
 heim was particularly engaged, but wished us a 
 safe return to town. 
 
 I felt deeply wounded by this undeserved, and, 
 as I thought, unfeeling coolness ; all previous sym- 
 pathy was crushed by my innate pride thus wan- 
 tonly humiliated. I involuntarily exclaimed with 
 bitterness : u Thou art then but a woman !” 
 
 u And what would you have her be ?” cried Mr. 
 Bauer, ludicrously enough, with a hurried fever- 
 ish ar iculation. 
 
 w Be ! let her be what she chooses, and whose 
 she chooses, so she be not mine. The veil is rent 
 — the spell dissolved. Come, Mr. Bauer, the 
 horses are put to ; every moment spent in this 
 hateful abode adds to our vexations.” 
 
 In proceeding by a long corridor through ano- 
 
252 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 ther part of the house, we passed the open door of 
 a large apartment, in which the corps de ballet , in- 
 cluding Monsieur Dupre and the orchestra, were 
 on the point of seating themselves to a repast. 
 One leap of ballerine swiftness brought from her 
 chair the elegant little Victorine. How graceful ! 
 how lovely she looked !— hmv delicately, how ami- 
 ably she chid me for the fright I had caused her 
 when she first opened her fine black eyes ! And 
 those eyes, how eloquent their expression when I 
 left her to proceed to the chaise ! divine creature ! ! 
 
 u I have brought you a good warm blanket to 
 wrap your friend in,” said the kind-hearted Mary 
 Dickel, as we ascended the vehicle ; u the even- 
 ings are cool yet ; poor gentleman — he seems very 
 bad.— No, indeed,” said she, when Mr. Bauer 
 attempted pecuniary remuneration, u ’tis no more 
 than what every good Christian ought to do, and 
 I am sure I would do a thousand times more for 
 any friend of Mr. Franck’s, for he and I be old 
 friends, and I hope will remain so ; and if you ’ll 
 tell me where you live^ Mr. Franck, I ‘11 call for 
 the blanket to-morrow as I go to town to market.” 
 Mary’s regular lineaments and her fresh and 
 healthy complexion looked beautiful as she spoke 
 these words of kindness. There was not the bril- 
 liancy, the sparkling vivacity of Victorine in her 
 countenance, but an inexpressible charm of unso- 
 phisticated good -nature was spread, over her open 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 253 
 
 rounded features ; and this eharm was heightened 
 by the rosy bloom of health, unsubdued by the 
 sunburnt tinge of her complexion. Amiable, in- 
 teresting simplicity ! true emblem of unalloyed 
 innocence ! ! 
 
 The situation of Mrs. Bauer, on our return — 
 her numerous questions — her anxiety and alarm, 
 may be easily guessed. Dr. von Muller, on learn- 
 ing the cause of the indisposition, wrote sundry re- 
 cipes, and expressed a hope of speedy amendment. 
 On the ensuing morning the fever had considerably 
 abated ; but there remained a general derangement 
 of the internal economy, which would evidently 
 require medical attendance for some days. 
 
 Agreeably to appointment, I waited on Baron 
 Dohm, who, on my inquiring after Miss Wald- 
 heim’s health, informed me that she had not risen 
 yet, as she found herself rather indisposed, u the 
 effects, no doubt, of a cold which she must have 
 caught by witnessing the fireworks in the garden 
 at Monplaisir in a dress little adapted to the eve- 
 ning air in April.” 
 
 The Baron, after complimenting me again on 
 my musical performance of yesterday, and express- 
 ing his obligations, began a minute inquiry into 
 the extent of the general studies I had pursued. 
 He asked whether I knew French and Latin, and 
 more particularly, whether I was conversant iri 
 figures and accounts. Upon receiving affirmative 
 z 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 25 $ 
 
 and satisfactory replies to these and other ques- 
 tions, he begged to know whether it was from my 
 own inclination that 1 had embraced the musical 
 career. My answer was, that although certain 
 prognostications of my uncle had been the primary 
 cause of my entering professionally upon my musi- 
 cal studies, I had from my youth felt a decided 
 partiality for the art ; and that since I had exclu- 
 sively devoted myself to it, I had found so many 
 charms in the pursuit, that what had before been 
 mere liking had grown into enthusiasm. 
 
 u If such be the case, Mr. Franck,” observed the 
 Baron, “ all we have to do is, to see how we can 
 farther your views that way ; otherwise, I think I 
 could have suggested something which would have 
 opened more promising prospects to a young man 
 of your attainments. At all events,” he continued, 
 there will be no harm in mentioning my idea to 
 you. As this communication will be quite confi- 
 dential, I must request the strictest secrecy. It has 
 been intimated to me, that, in the course of this 
 summer, our gracious Sovereign will have occasion 
 for my services on a diplomatic mission of some im- 
 portance ; and it is not improbable that the choice 
 of a secretary will be left to my option: it is a 
 post of trust, and so highly honourable, that nume- 
 rous applications on behalf of our first families will 
 not be wanting. I can, therefore, give you no 
 stronger proof of my esteem and my wish to serve 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 255 
 
 you, Mr. Franck, thair by assuring you, that if 
 the appointment should rest with me, it shall be 
 yours, provided you could make up your mind to 
 resign your musical career for prospects infinitely 
 more advantageous and respectable.” 
 
 Baron Dohm’s generous and splendid offer quite 
 took me by surprise. This I stated to him can- 
 didly ; adding also, that, whatever might be my de- 
 termination, a step of such vital importance would 
 necessarily require the approbation of my uncle, as 
 well as of my patron, Baron Wolditz. 
 
 u Unquestionably, Mr. Franck. But the first 
 point to be considered will be, your own inclina- 
 tion ; and, in this respect too, I should be the last 
 to wish for a hasty decision. There is ample time 
 to reflect upon the matter ; weigh it well by all 
 means, and when you have made up your mind, 
 come and tell me your determination. Suppose we 
 say, the day after to-morrow. If your resolution be 
 affirmative, then will be the time to write to your 
 uncle on the subject ; and as to Baron W olditz, I 
 shall with pleasure charge myself with making the 
 communication to him. All, I dare say, will de- 
 pend upon your decision ; for the offer is such, that 
 I should be surprised to meet with any objection 
 in either of the other quarters.” 
 
256 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 53 . 
 
 A CONSULTATION. 
 
 The state of my mind on leaving the Baron 
 may easily be imagined. I was assailed by 9, chaos 
 of conflicting ideas and considerations ; and my em- 
 barrassment was the more distressing, as the in- 
 junction of secrecy precluded the possibility of 
 friendly advice in a matter of such deep moment. 
 My situation resembled that of Hercules at the 
 cross-road, with this difference, that, in the choice 
 he had to make, the question of right and wrong 
 admitted of no doubt. But, in my case, I beheld on 
 one side the solicitations of an art to which I had 
 attached myself, and which I cherished with de- 
 voted zeal ; while, on the other, I had before me the 
 most tempting prospects of a solid and brilliant 
 good fortune, under the auspices of a patron whose 
 weight with the Sovereign, and powerful influence 
 in the state, were notorious ; — of a patron, the 
 uncle, the father by adoption, of Amelia ! 
 
 Even Mrs. Bauer observed the perturbed state 
 of my feelings ; but probably the unremitting at- 
 tention which her husband required prevented 
 her from pressing the subject. Hr. von Muller 
 called the ensuing morning; and while expressing 
 a highly favourable opinion as to the state of Mr. 
 Bauer, added : u I wish I could say the same of 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 257 
 
 another Monplaisir patient I have just seen. The 
 niece of Baron Bohm, Miss Waldheim, from 
 exposing herself to the keen night-air and the 
 notoriously damp and noxious atmosphere of the 
 place, lies at this moment dangerously ill....” 
 
 44 Miss Waldheim dangerously ill ?” J. exclaimed 
 in the greatest agitation. 
 
 44 The commencement of either a bilious or 
 typhus fever; the symptoms as yet are not suf- 
 ficiently decisive. She talked, I was informed, 
 very incoherently in her sleep all nighf, and her 
 pulse is full 150. Some benefit may reasonably 
 be expected from a dozen leeches and a blister I 
 have ordered to be applied instantly ; but, at best, 
 the disorder is likely to be of some duration. That 
 stagnant marsh at the back of the rock, which 
 was left undrained when old Naufels built the 
 place, sends forth the most mephitic vapours, espe- 
 cially at this season of the year.” 
 
 This unexpected intelligence filled me with 
 horror and dismay. In the anguish of my heart, 
 I already beheld poor Amelia a corpse, a victim, 
 perhaps, not of cold or mephitic vapours, but of 
 a concatenation of occurrences at Monplaisir, to 
 which I had given rise. The pique I had felt at 
 her coolness and repulsive neglect gave way iman 
 instant to the keenest sympathy for the poor girl’s 
 unmerited sufferings, and to bitter reproaches 
 against myself. My love to her rekindled from 
 z 3 
 
£58 FERDINAND FllANCK. 
 
 its embers into an intense flame ; willingly would; 
 I now have sacrificed my existence for the preser- 
 vation of her precious life. In the midst of these 
 painful sensations, I received a message from 
 Baron Dohm, to say that he was prevented from 
 receiving me, and that he would let me know 
 when he could see me. 
 
 Never before or since have I felt so completely 
 wretched. Hours of racking mental torment suc- 
 ceeded each other at a lingering pace. The un- 
 certainty whether Amelia might not already have 
 breathed her last haunted me at every step ; and 
 I anxiously waited for the evening, at which time 
 Dr. von Muller was expected to visit Mr. Bauer. 
 But even this opportunity of obtaining intelligence 
 was denied me : he sent word that unless Mr. 
 Bauer were worse (he was recovering apace, and 
 complained of being starved,) he could not possibly 
 see him. 
 
 In this state of distraction I left the house in 
 the dark, and walking to and fro in the vicinity 
 of Baron Dohm’s, kept watch to see whether I 
 might not meet with somebody from the house, of 
 whom I might ask the fearful tidings. But no 
 one issued from the abode of sorrow. My despair 
 was at its height ; indifferent as to the conse- 
 quences, I determined to enter myself. On ap- 
 proaching the portico, I heard behind me the steps 
 of a person apparently in great haste : it was a 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK-, 259 
 
 female servant of the house, whom I had seen 
 before. 
 
 u Does she live ?" 
 
 u She was alive not half an hour ago, when I 
 went for the$e medicines ; if she’s dead, you , Sir, 
 — you have to answer for it! /” 
 
 A feeling of horror seized my frame at these 
 dread words : they rang in my ears as the verdict 
 of the last judge of our deeds. I sank for a mo- 
 ment senseless against a pillar. The servant 
 had entered the house when I recovered my fa- 
 culties, and with them a full consciousness of my 
 misery. The door again opened ; the same female 
 came up to me. 
 
 u I was afraid, Sir,” said she in a tone of less 
 harshness, u I had done you some harm by what 
 I said just now ; so I came to look for you to tell 
 you that Miss Waldheim is asleep, and they say 
 she breathes more freely than she has done 
 hitherto.” 
 
 A piece of money, with which I rewarded these 
 tidings, having rendered the girl more communi- 
 cative, I asked the ground of the dread accusa- 
 tion she had just before uttered against me. 
 
 46 May-be, Sir,” she replied, 44 I have been too 
 harsh and hasty, from the love I bear to our good 
 young lady. Indeed, I know little enough about 
 the business ; but they say you used her very un- 
 kindly in the gardens; and we all suspect she 
 
<260 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 must have a liking for you, Sir ; for, while talking 
 beside herself as the fever was upon her, she 
 would call out, 4 Franck ! Franck /’ every now 
 and then : and pray, Sir, what ’s your Christian 
 name ? — Well, then, as I was sitting up with 
 her all night, I heard her more than once call 
 out, 4 Stay, stay , Ferdinand ! don't leave me , 
 Ferdinand!' and such like: and at one time 
 she rose in her bed, and sang so sweetly, it made 
 my heart ache ; it was something about her birth- 
 day. You don’t know, Sir, how stocking it is to 
 hear people sing when they are in such a way ; 
 and ’tis a bad sign, you may depend upon it : 
 they sing their ” 
 
 Here the girl’s name was called from within, 
 and she abruptly left me plunged in the deepest 
 distress. An inward monitor whispered that I 
 had a duty to perform : what that duty was — 
 how to proceed— I was at a loss to decide. Whom 
 was I to consult ? Mrs. Bauer ? Her opinion was 
 too averse to my attachment to render her coun- 
 sel unbiassed. 
 
 The resolves of young men are often bold and 
 extraordinary : the step I determined upon, even 
 now surprises me. 
 
 44 Is Mr. Bauer worse ?” asked Dr. von Muller, 
 as I entered his library. In undeceiving him, I 
 at once, with due apologies for the liberty I was 
 taking, informed him that the purport of my call 
 
FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 261 
 
 was to receive correct intelligence of the state of 
 Miss Waldheim, and to be permitted to impart 
 to him a confidential communication concerning 
 that lady, the nature of which I considered to be 
 of the highest moment at the present crisis. 
 
 “ Whatever may be the nature of a communi- 
 cation of this kind, Mr. Franck,” replied Dr. von 
 Muller, u you must entertain very erroneous 
 ideas of the sacred duties of our profession, if 
 you think that I can listen to it. Surely you 
 cannot expect that I should be the intermediate 
 channel of a communication of this description, 
 which, moreover, would be physically out of all 
 question.” 
 
 “ Far be such a thought from me ! All I ask 
 is, that you will permit me to state to you certain 
 circumstances ; and to leave it to your discretion — 
 to your humanity, perhaps — to make of them 
 whatever use you may judge proper.” 
 
 u Impossible ! Mr. Franck ! I cannot — I will on 
 no account hear you !” 
 
 u Not hear me ?” I exclaimed with some 
 warmth: u What ! if the statement were calcu- 
 lated to produce a salutary change in the health 
 of the patient — if it were more available than 
 your drugs — do the sacred duties of your profes- 
 sion enjoin you to spurn it ?” 
 
 u Young man ! it is not from you that I am to 
 be taught those duties, or to be insulted within 
 
262 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 my own walls : I desire you will withdraw in- 
 stantly.” 
 
 “ Then, Sir, may the blood of the victim you 
 might perchance have saved rest on your con- 
 science !” 
 
 With these emphatic words, unjustifiable even 
 in the agitation of my harassed mind, I left the 
 room : he recalled me before I had descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 An explanation ensued : I gladly apologized for 
 the offensive warmth of my conduct : calm was 
 restored ; and I was allowed to proceed, with the 
 understanding, that Dr. von Muller would pas- 
 sively hear me, without expressing an opinion on 
 his part. I now entered upon a brief, but sincere 
 and undisguised narrative of every occurrence 
 which could have reference to the attachment I 
 bore to Miss Waldheim, and to the suspicions 
 under which I might have fallen. I dwelt on all 
 that passed at Monplaisir, and concluded by pro- 
 testing, in the most solemn manner, my inno- 
 cence — my unalterable love to Amelia — my firm 
 determination to live or die for her sake. 46 If,” 
 said I, in concluding, u an intimation to this 
 effect, made at a proper time, were capable of 
 producing some favourable change, whatever might 
 be the result as to myself, my gratitude to you, 
 Sir, could only terminate with my breath ; while 
 the proud thought of having saved the life of a 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 263 
 
 fellow-being must cheer every moment of your 
 existence.” 
 
 The doctor, without saying a syllable in reply, 
 rose from his chair, enjoined secrecy as to this 
 interview — the first and last as he desired it to 
 be — and wished me good-night. 
 
 The intelligence of Amelia’s health, which I 
 contrived to procure during two or three subse- 
 quent days, was but of a doubtful nature : it pro- 
 ceeded from the female servant before-mentioned. 
 What should we be without the kind, the endear- 
 ing sympathies of that sex ? They share our sor- 
 rows ; and, when love is in the question, their aid 
 and interest are seldom wanting. It was in the 
 dark of the night, under the lime-trees sur- 
 rounding the parade — the spot is indelibly en- 
 graven on my memory ! — I again met the partici- 
 pating Lucy. 
 
 44 The doctor,” she whispered with hasty ut- 
 terance, 44 has seen her this evening and declared 
 her out of danger /” The sensation which thrilled 
 through my frame must not be described : I fell 
 round the girl’s neck, smothered her with kisses, 
 cleared my pockets of a crown-piece and some 
 change— -all I possessed of transferable property ; 
 and in ecstasy repeated the salutation. u You de- 
 serve to have her, Mr. Franck,” she exclaimed 
 emphatically ; 46 I ’m sure you’ll make an excellent 
 husband.” 
 
FERDINAND FRANCE, 
 
 £ 64 , 
 
 54 . 
 
 SAD GOOD NEWS. 
 
 EverV day brought more hopeful tidings, until 
 I received a message to attend Baron Dohm. This 
 summons completed my joy ; for what could be its 
 object but to consummate my happiness ! 
 
 The Baron received me with fascinating affabi- 
 lity ; and assured me, in the strongest terms, of the 
 interest he took, and would never cease to mani- 
 fest, in my future welfare. “ The plan I had in 
 view,” he continued, u of attaching you to the di- 
 plomatic mission in contemplation, I am sorry to 
 say, has proved impracticable — sorry, more on my 
 account than on yours ; for my endeavours to 
 serve you in some other way have been successful 
 beyond expectation. Indeed, in the happy news 
 which I am about to communicate to you, my dear 
 Sir, I can scarcely claim any other merit than that 
 of having seconded a fortunate developement of 
 circumstances entirely owing to yourself.” 
 
 u Your Excellency’s kindness ” 
 
 u Not mine, my dear Mr. Franck, but that of 
 our most gracious Sovereign, whose discernment 
 and innate benevolence are ever on the watch to 
 cherish talent and genius among his subjects. 
 Yours, it seems, have not escaped his observation % 
 the less so, perhaps, as it regards an art to which 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 2 65 
 
 he himself is passionately devoted. Count Erlach, 
 the Earl Marshal, a great connoisseur, and a lead- 
 ing man in our opera affairs, mentioned our little 
 performance at Monplaisir, and with it the abili- 
 ties you displayed on an unforeseen emergency. 
 His Royal Highness, in condescending to compli- 
 ment me on the production, made some inquiries 
 concerning you ; and I need not add how happy I 
 felt in that opportunity of doing justice to your 
 talents, and contributing to your future welfare.” 
 The thanks I muttered were forced ; my heart 
 began to misgive with sinister forebodings. 
 
 44 4 The plant,* said our excellent Monarch, 4 is 
 the more valuable, as it is of indigenous growth : 
 it shall be cherished, that the country may take 
 pride in its fruit.’ In short, Mr. Franck, it is 
 His Royal Highness’s gracious determination that 
 you should enlarge the sphere of your knowledge 
 by a suitable course of study abroad.” 
 
 44 Abroad !” 
 
 44 Yes, Mr. Franck: you are forthwith to pro- 
 ceed to Vienna, in the first instance ; furnished, of 
 course, with all necessary introductions and facili- 
 ties to pursue your career to the greatest advan- 
 tage. And, at the proper time, it is the Sove- 
 reign’s further gracious intention that you should 
 visit Italy, the land of song and harmony J” 
 
 44 Can it be possible !” 
 
 44 Even so, Mr. Franck. An annual stipend of 
 2 A 
 
266 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 two hundred ducats, to commence from the 1st of 
 January last, has been assigned to you on the 
 Treasury. To this signal act of our Monarch’s 
 munificence you will permit me to make an an- 
 nual addition of fifty ducats, as a token of private 
 friendship, for the present. On my future protec- 
 tion and my constant endeavours to promote your 
 welfare I desire you will place unlimited depend- 
 ence. Nothing, therefore, remains but a speedy 
 compliance with His Royal Highness’s desire# 
 The commands of princes, you must be aware, are 
 impatient of delay. It is by expedition that you 
 will best evince your gratitude. The stage for 
 Ratisbon sets out on Thursday : as I have had some 
 share in this matter, you will oblige me by availing 
 yourself of that opportunity.” 
 
 I was so stupefied at the Baron’s communica** 
 tion, and, above all, at the haste with which he 
 pressed my departure, that for some moments I 
 felt incapable of uttering a syllable. After a 
 pause, however, I gladly availed myself of the only 
 plea for delay which seemed to be left. I urged 
 the necessity of writing to Feldberg, to obtain the 
 sanction of both my uncle, Mr. Nicholas Franck, 
 and my patron, Baron Wolditz. 
 
 u Their approbation,” replied Baron Dohm, 
 u though almost a matter of course in such a case, 
 appeared to me equally indispensable ; I, therefore, 
 took upon myself to anticipate your wishes. This 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 2(57 
 
 packet, which you may read at your leisure, will 
 set your mind at rest on that point.*’ 
 
 This unforeseen stroke of the Baron’s diplomacy 
 confounded my senses. I stood mute ; my eyes 
 fixed on the direction in Mr. Nicholas Franck’s 
 tremulous scholastic handwriting. 
 
 u Well, then, Mr. Franck,” exclaimed the Ba- 
 ron, tapping my shoulder familiarly, u you ’ll 
 Start on Thursday morning. I shall not say 
 adieu ! call on Wednesday evening, when the let- 
 ters of recommendation and your travelling purse 
 shall be in readiness. Meanwhile, this trifle will 
 serve to assist your immediate equipment. Fare- 
 well for the present!” 
 
 I remained immovable ; a heavy load weighed 
 on my mind : it seemed as if I were voluntarily 
 consenting to my banishment — to eternal separa- 
 tion from my beloved Amelia ; — a separation con- 
 trived perhaps — ah, surely contrived without her 
 knowledge. What ! fly, desert her, without seeing 
 her ? bend, a willing tool, under the evident machi- 
 nations of an artful uncle ; overawed by his autho- 
 rity, cajoled by his insinuating professions of 
 friendship ? Never ! said I to myself ; this is the 
 moment to assert thy dignity as a man. Now, or 
 never ! 
 
 Baron Dohm was preparing to withdraw, when, 
 in a tone of respectful decision, I expressed a hope, 
 as Miss Waldheim’s convalescence was happily so 
 
268 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 far advanced, of being permitted to take my leave 
 of her. 
 
 u Under existing circumstances,” said the Baron, 
 in a tone of deep significancy, “ this will scarcely 
 be practicable, or even advisable : you really must 
 not think of it.” 
 
 u To see Miss Waldheim before my departure,” 
 I replied with measured firmness, u I conceive to 
 be a matter of such paramount duty, that without 
 it — your Excellency must permit me to observe— I 
 cannot think of proceeding on my journey.” 
 
 The Baron shrunk back in momentary astonish- 
 ment ; but collecting himself, and recovering the 
 self-possession and presence of mind seldom out of 
 the reach of the man of the world, he said, with 
 evident emotion, u You have touched a string, Mr. 
 Franck, the slightest vibration of which I fondly 
 hoped to have escaped. As it is, farther silence on 
 my part becomes impossible, and an explanation 
 indispensably requisite, and indeed highly desira- 
 ble on both sides. In this, too, the unreserved sin- 
 cerity w r hich I mean to use towards you will afford 
 a further proof of my friendship and my thorough 
 confidence in your honour and sense of justice. I 
 am aware of the attachment you entertain for my 
 niece, which, were it even reciprocal , could never 
 lead to a union between parties so distant in rank 
 and station* but only involve them in disappoint- 
 ment and ruin. Yet, deeply as I have cause to 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 209 
 
 regret this inconsiderate attachment on your part, 
 far be it from me to utter a word of reproach. W e 
 are not masters of our affections, and I can find a 
 ready excuse if a young man of your discernment 
 yielded to the attractions, both intellectual and 
 moral, with which Providence and the highest pos- 
 sible culture have gifted my excellent niece . 5 * 
 
 44 A superior being, an angel in human form, 
 
 whose happiness ” 
 
 44 Whose happiness and mine, you, my dear Mr. 
 Franck, I am sure, would be the last to disturb.” 
 
 44 Seal, rather, at the sacrifice of my life.” 
 
 4 4 Well, then, my young friend, let a fond parent 
 entreat, let him supplicate you to yield to the dic- 
 tates of prudence, and to suppress a rash and youth- 
 ful passion, as hopeless as it must prove ruinous to 
 your future, your brilliant prospects. The sacrifice 
 on your part is great, I allow ; but not too great in 
 a noble mind like yours. It is by this act of gene- 
 rous resignation that you will secure the happiness 
 of my niece.” 
 
 44 If this were Miss Waldheim’s opinion, the 
 sacrifice, however painful, would be a matter of 
 duty.” 
 
 46 And what reason have you, Mr. Franck, to 
 doubt it ? Has she ever given you any assurance, 
 any encouragement ?” 
 
 44 Your Excellency’s question is rather pointed. 
 2 a 3 
 
270 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 To answer it in the affirmative would be an act of 
 presumption — a departure from strict candour.” 
 
 44 1 knew it,” said the Baron, with evident satis r 
 faction. 44 This open and manly avowal only raises 
 you the more in my esteem.” 
 
 44 That candour, at the same time, obliges me 
 to add, that I have reasons which warrant a hope 
 that my attentions have not been altogether indif- 
 ferent to Miss Waldheim.” 
 
 44 Our imagination, Mr. Franck, acts but too 
 often as the ready interpreter of our fond wishes. 
 Your talents, your sincere and ingenuous dispo- 
 sition, I doubt not, have gained you the esteem of 
 my niece, as they have won mine. The open and 
 unreserved manner in which this esteem may 
 have been manifested might naturally enough 
 have created erroneous impressions, which, I am 
 confident, time and absence will readily dispel.” 
 
 44 Never, your Excellency ! nor do I feel justified 
 in resorting to the remedy you allude to, unless 
 I am convinced of being in error. Supposing 
 these impressions were well-founded, what would 
 Miss Waldheim think of my sudden, my, as it 
 were, clandestine departure ? No, indeed — under 
 such circumstances, I cannot, I must not go.” 
 
 44 Well, but if she were apprised of the plan, if 
 she were to approve it, would you dismiss all 
 further scruple and proceed at once ?” 
 
 44 In that case my conscience, at least, would be 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 271 
 
 at ease ; and, whatever sacrifice it might cost my 
 feelings, I could have no objection to depart.” 
 
 44 Then, Mr. Franck, you may set out in peace ! 
 my niece is fully informed of every thing ; and, 
 what is more, she participates in the fortunate 
 change of your prospects.” 
 
 •“ What ! approves of my departure ? does she 
 really, Sir, approve of my going?” 
 
 44 The word of Baron Dohm, I trust, will be a 
 sufficient pledge for the correctness of what I have 
 stated. On my side, I place equal confidence in 
 the fulfilment of the promise you have just made. 
 But before we part, Mr. Franck, I have one more 
 and a solemn request to make ; and as its com- 
 pliance on your part will secure the tranquillity of 
 the few years I may have to live, the peace and 
 honour of my family, and indeed your own hap- 
 piness, 1 trust I shall not ask in vain May I 
 
 hope, my generous young friend, that you will 
 renounce that unfortunate attachment — that you 
 will give up all farther thoughts of my niece ?” 
 
 66 Baron Dohm ! if I were capable of uttering 
 such a promise, I must be guilty of the basest dis- 
 simulation, incompatible with the sincere and in- 
 genuous disposition for which your Excellency 
 yourself has been pleased to give me credit. Im- 
 possibilities cannot, ought not to be promised.” 
 
 44 Wha£ appears to you impossible now, Mr. 
 Franck, may soon cease to be so. All I shall ask 
 
272 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 will be, your willingness to act fairly and honour- 
 ably in furtherance of my anxious wish ; or, rather, 
 not to act in opposition to it, by entering into any 
 correspondence, or resorting to any direct or in- 
 direct communication whatever. Your thoughts 
 are your own ; but your actions — ” 
 
 u My actions, Baron Dohm, will ever be open 
 and undisguised as my words. Your demand, 
 therefore, such as you have now limited it, I can- 
 not have a moment’s hesitation in acceding to. 
 Nay, I ’ll go farther, by assuring your Excellency, 
 that, deeply rooted and fervid as is my attachment 
 to Miss Waldheim, I never harboured a thought 
 Of obtaining her hand without your Excellency’s 
 free and willing consent !” 
 
 u Noble young man ! and can you give me this 
 manly, this soothing assurance for the future ?” 
 u For ever ! by all that is sacred and dear to 
 mankind !” 
 
 At this declaration the Baron’s feelings were 
 too powerful to be suppressed : he embraced me, 
 protested that this was one of the happiest mo- 
 ments of his life, repeated in a more emphatic and 
 solemn manner the promise of his future friend 
 ship, and, by the persuasion he used, obtained my 
 acquiescence in his desire that I should set out on 
 my journey without a previous interview with 
 Ampiia. 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 273 
 
 55 . 
 
 CON FUOCO. 
 
 The packet from Feldberg contained letters 
 from Baron Wolditz and my uncle, Mr. Nicholas 
 Franck. Both expressed their delight at my good 
 fortune, which they considered, naturally enough, 
 as the consequence of my praiseworthy conduct 
 and zealous diligence. The former added a 
 liberal allowance of pocket-money to the appointed 
 stipend ; and insisted, as the road to Ratisbon 
 passed through Feldberg, that I should take my 
 place so as to stop a few days with him and my 
 uncle, and proceed with a subsequent coach to my 
 further destination. The long epistle from the 
 worthy Mr. Nicholas Franck also dwelt with 
 delight on the expected meeting, and was profuse 
 in well-meant and profitable counsel for my future 
 guidance, amply backed by the opinions and say- 
 ings of the ancient writers in their original tongue : 
 for he had seen a letter from Mary Dickel to her 
 father, the blacksmith, stating what a fine and 
 gay gentleman I had become ; and such a fa- 
 vourite with the fine ladies, that I seemed to be 
 ashamed to take notice of former old friends. On 
 this topic, therefore, my good uncle, who took it 
 for granted that looseness in principle is insepa- 
 rable from refinement in manners, thought it 
 
274 FERDINAND FRANCK, 
 
 incumbent on him to be the more impressive as 
 my “ unfortunate” cerebral conformation, as he 
 termed it, like a lightning-conductor without the 
 conducting chain, would be sure to attract the 
 electric and destructive fluid of love in the satu- 
 rated atmosphere of rank and fashion. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bauer were overwhelmed with 
 the unexpected intelligence of my sudden depar- 
 ture : the thoughts of separation at first com- 
 pletely overpowered their feelings. Upon cooler 
 reflection, however, the latter, whose keen dis- 
 cernment clearly perceived causes and effects, felt 
 convinced that the plan of Baron Dohm was pru- 
 dent, and pregnant with the greatest advantages, 
 if I had the discretion to avail myself of them. 
 Mr. Bauer, as usual, entertained an opinion dia- 
 metrically the reverse: first, because I had not 
 learnt the hundredth part of what he could have 
 taught me ; secondly, because a dissolute capital, 
 like Vienna, must prove a dangerous enemy to 
 the studies of any young man, and especially of 
 one whose susceptibilities had verified the cranio- 
 logical prognostic enounced in the introductory let- 
 ter brought with him ; and lastly, because he felt 
 convinced that, had I stood firm, the union with 
 Miss Waldheim must have taken place, in spite 
 of the quartered pride and the artifices of her 
 uncle, to whose assertion, as to her acquiescence in 
 my departure, Mr. Bauer would yield little credit 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 275 
 
 unless he found it vouched by herself. Mrs. 
 Bauer, on the contrary, saw in Amelia’s silence 
 a direct and convincing proof of her wish to put 
 an end to expectations on my part, which she felt 
 she had inconsiderately and wantonly raised. u The 
 matter is clear enough,” said Mrs. Bauer ; “ she 
 has had a little sport with you, my poor Ferdi- 
 nand, as with some others before : the game is 
 finished ; you are not the loser, as it happens ; 
 the laugh is on your side : all you have to do is, 
 to make yourself happy, and think no more of 
 her ! ’Tis well you should be off without delay ; 
 and, much as it goes against my heart, I engage 
 to get you ready by the appointed time : it is not 
 a parting for life — we shall see each other again.” 
 
 Under these conflicting opinions, my mind was 
 far from being reconciled to the approaching jour- 
 ney : the promise of abstaining from any commu- 
 nication precluded my even availing myself of the 
 channel through which I had hitherto obtained 
 information of Amelia’s state of health. Thus, 
 while the preparations for my departure were ac- 
 tively proceeding, my mind remained in a state 
 of passive fluctuation. 
 
 As I had not yet informed my honest Hebrew 
 friend of the unexpected change in my circum- 
 stances, and as his avidity of news of any kind, 
 together with his intercourse with the Dohm fa- 
 mily, might afford me a chance of receiving some 
 
276 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 information on the subject I had most at heart, I 
 called on Mr. Benzheimer the next day. He no 
 sooner saw my face, than he rapturously congra- 
 tulated me on my good fortune, which, as well 
 as the source whence it sprang, had already 
 reached his ears. He was lavish in his praises of 
 Baron Dohm’s excellent character and benevo- 
 lence ; and felt convinced that his own represen- 
 tations of my merits, both to the Baron and his 
 niece, had had their full influence on the present 
 occasion. I took the opportunity of his men- 
 tioning Miss W aldheim, to ask how she was. 
 
 “ Getting better every day, thank God !” he 
 replied ; u but hardly well enough, I should think, 
 to go into the country.” 
 
 “ When is she to go ?” 
 
 u Gone , Mr. Franck ! the carriage passed under 
 these windows not half an hour ago : his Excel- 
 lency bowed to me as they went by. Poor thing ! 
 she looked yet very pale. — What ’s the matter, my 
 good Sir ?” 
 
 u Nothing! — nothing particular ! only the intel- 
 ligence surprised me, as I was to see Baron Dohm 
 the day after to-morrow.” 
 
 u Oh ! he will be back by that time, I dare say ; 
 particularly, if he appointed you to call. I would 
 take his word for hundreds of thousands, rather 
 than the bonds of most of our high folks — Only 
 gone to Perlstadt, to take Miss Waldheim to a 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 277 
 
 female relation, where she is to spend two or three 
 weeks to recruit her strength.” 
 
 Here, then, was another diplomatic stroke of the 
 architect of my good fortune. Gone ! without even 
 a hint — Amelia gone 1 without so much as a kind 
 message of farewell 1 I began to coincide in opi- 
 nion with Mrs. Bauer ; and, in communicating the 
 intelligence to the latter, added that, as things 
 stood, it was perfectly indifferent to me what I did, 
 and hoped all would be ready in time for my de- 
 parture. 
 
 Baron Dohm returned in the evening of the next 
 day, and, at the appointed interview, put into my 
 hands the letters of introduction, letters of credit, 
 and other papers which he had promised. He men- 
 tioned the removal of his niece into the country ; 
 and added, 66 She expressly desires to be kindly 
 remembered to you, and wishes you health and a 
 prosperous journey. By mistake, she had packed 
 up a song of yours, which she charged me to return.” 
 
 u This, then,” said I to myself, on proceeding 
 from Baron Dohm’s to my chamber — u this is the 
 end of the fond dream of happiness I have been 
 cherishing in delusion. 4 Health , and a prosper- 
 ous journey ! /* Is this all thou kadst to send to me, 
 Amelia ? And, for fear of retaining any thing that 
 might remind you of the owner, a miserable scrap 
 of paper is thrown back upon me with scorn ! So 
 saying, I tore the sheet and flung it to the ground* 
 
 B 
 
278 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 But the paroxysm of anger was of short duration : 
 I gathered the fragments, kissed them, and pressed 
 them to my heart as sacred relics.-^Strange mis- 
 take ! — this, certainly, never was property of mine ; 
 nor was it from me she could have received it. 
 All I ever gave to Amelia was the Ode on her 
 Birthday : those, alas ! were happier days ! This 
 song ! is it meant as a taunt ? or do the words con- 
 vey some allusive meaning ? no, the poetry is as 
 neutral as the writing is brown with age — Ah ! 
 this u con fuoco ,” at least, is in fresh ink. These 
 two words alone are recently written. Heavens ! 
 they are in Amelia’s hand. Con fuoco — with fire ! 
 With fire A thought flashed through my mind. 
 I ran in leaps down the staircase, brought embers, 
 held the fragment over them. Gracious powers ! 
 what do I behold ! ! 
 
 u May Heaven's blessing attend your steps , dear 
 Ferdinand l 
 
 u Your's , and your’s only, 
 
 “ A. W .” 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 At this decisive stage of the career of Ferdi- 
 nand Franck, reasons, which it is needless to 
 state, have rendered it advisable to close these 
 Memoirs. At the same time, it has been felt 
 due to those readers who may have taken some 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 279 
 
 interest in the Narrative, to subjoin a brief and 
 rapid summary of the most important subsequent 
 events. 
 
 Thus assured of Amelia’s love, Ferdinand cheer- 
 fully mounted the Ratisbon stage, spent some days 
 at Feldberg, where the improvement in his person 
 and manners, and his mental accomplishments, 
 endeared him more than ever to his patron, Baron 
 Wolditz ; and with a heavy heart he resumed, 
 his pilgrimage to his ulterior destination. Ar- 
 rived in Vienna, he forthwith entered on his mu- 
 sical studies, which he had pursued for some time 
 with unabated zeal and activity, when he was 
 agreeably surprised by the unexpected intelligence 
 of the arrival of Baron Dohm on the diplomatic 
 mission before adverted to. 
 
 The Baron received Ferdinand’s visit with 
 kindness; and the favourable reports of his con- 
 duct and assiduity, which the minute inquiries of 
 the minister met with in all quarters, greatly 
 raised our young hero in his estimation. Accord- 
 ing to Baron Dohm, Amelia’s health was restored; 
 but he gave this information with some reserve : 
 and one of his attendants assured Franck, that 
 she had never recovered her former strength and 
 spirits ; and that he was sure the state of Ame- 
 lia’s health weighed seriously on his master’s 
 mind. 
 
280 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCE. 
 
 A young nobleman accompanied the Baron as 
 his secretary ; but the pleasures of the gay and 
 luxurious capital accorded infinitely more with 
 Ms inclinations than the writing of dispatches 
 and framing complicated accounts of pecuniary 
 claims. He was seldom at his post ; and the Ba- 
 ron once or twice found it necessary to request 
 the assistance of Ferdinand’s pen. These calls 
 gradually became more frequent. Ferdinand, as 
 may be supposed, did his best ; without, however, 
 neglecting his professional pursuits. The Baron 
 thus had repeated opportunities of discovering 
 talents before unknown to him ; and Ferdinand 
 soon became a favourite. 
 
 These occupations, however, were suddenly in- 
 terrupted by a letter from Mr. Nicholas Franck, 
 at Feldberg. A sanguinary battle had been fought 
 with the French army on the Rhine. Baron 
 Fritz, the nephew of Baron Wolditz, in bravely 
 leading his hussars into the thickest of the enemy, 
 had received a mortal wound. The dismal tidings 
 had so affected the old uncle that his life was 
 despaired of : he anxiously desired to see Ferdi- 
 nand ; who was not to lose a moment, if he wished 
 to find his patron alive. 
 
 Our hero travelled night and day ; and on ar- 
 riving he was fortunate enough to embrace his 
 benefactor, who, although somewhat better, was 
 jstill in imminent danger. For a fortnight, Ferdi- 
 
FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 281 
 
 nand did not leave the Baron’s chamber : and it 
 was, perhaps, as much to his incessant care, as to 
 the skill of Dr. von Muller, whom Ferdinand 
 had sent for from the capital, that the Baron’s 
 amendment could be attributed. 
 
 Dr. von Muller, before his return, took an 
 opportunity of imparting to Baron Wolditz, un- 
 der promise of secrecy, the attachment subsisting 
 between Ferdinand and Amelia, the objections on 
 the part of her uncle, and the precarious state of 
 Amelia’s health, which he ascribed to the frus- 
 trated hopes of their union. The old Colonel, 
 disappointed in his expectation of a meeting with 
 Baron Dohm at Feldberg, on the return of the 
 latter from Vienna, proceeded to the capital as 
 soon as he heard of the Baron’s arrival ; and, re- 
 markable as he was at all times for taking the 
 shortest road, opened the subject at once to his 
 old friend ; but found him as inexorable as ever, 
 although he had declared to him that Ferdinand 
 would be the sole successor to his property. Ba- 
 ron Dohm’s obstinacy having roused the Colonel’s 
 temper, he asked the former whether he meant 
 to add the sacrifice of Amelia to that of her fa- 
 ther and mother, who had been the victims of the 
 family pride of the Dohms. This awful home 
 question eventually led to the wished-for result. 
 The Baron desired time to ascertain in person the 
 state and inclinations of Amelia ; proceeded to the 
 
282 
 
 FERDINAND FRANCK. 
 
 friends in the country, with whom she had resided 
 since Ferdinand’s departure from the capital, and 
 brought her back a willing companion. 
 
 Ferdinand, to whom the protracted absence of 
 liis benefactor had been a perfect mystery, was 
 walking with Mr. Nicholas Franck, in the long 
 chesnut avenue leading to the seat of Baron Wol- 
 ditz, when they heard the merry cracking of 
 whips, and a few moments afterwards espied the 
 Baron in his carriage, accompanied by another 
 gentleman and a lady. Mr. Nicholas Franck in 
 vain attempted to follow the speed of his nimble 
 nephew. 
 
 44 Here she is, my boy!” exclaimed the old 
 Colonel, as Ferdinand, with one leap, flew into 
 the arms of Amelia. 44 Old Wolditz has laid 
 siege — the Governor has surrendered on capitula- 
 tion — the fortress is yours !” 
 
 Ferdinand’s fortune and subsequent career were 
 splendid ; and Mr. Aaron Benzheimer had cause 
 to pride himself in having been 44 one of the pro- 
 phets” when he declared, 44 that Mr. Franck 
 would be a very great man, but not in the music.” 
 
 / 
 
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