GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, March 1850

THE NIEBELUNGEN:

A FEW WEEKS WITH A STUDENT IN THE COUNTRY.

BY PROF. CHARLES E. BLUMENTHAL.

CHAPTER I.

JUNE is the most charming month in the year for a visit to the country. Nature 'then looks like a lovely girl just coming out of her teens; she has cast aside the pertness and frivolities of her early spring-time, and has not yet assumed the matronly soberness of midsummer. In the full bloom of beauty and Rush of youth, she reposes in a 'calm and lofty, yet modest attitude. Such was nature's aspect when Edward Karsh found himself, in the year 184-, in one of her most delightful retreats on the banks of the Juniata – a river justly regarded as one of the ornaments of the Keystone State. In- deed, its banks may vie in natural beauty with those of the Rhine; and, in some parts of its course, the bold magnificence of its scenery may challenge that of the Hudson.

Edward was visiting at the house of a friend who had located his rural establishment in the vicinity of Huntingdon. Everything in and about the mansion indicated the refined taste of its owner, though some of its arrangements would be mistaken by the uncultivated for marks of an eccentric mind. The situation had been chosen with more reference to its romantic scenery than to its utilitarian advantages. It was sufficiently distant from the town to enable its occupants to enjoy the quietude of country life, and yet near enough to mal o the excursion a pleasant walk or ride for their town friends. Henry Filmot, the owner, was a gentleman between twenty-five and thirty years of age. He had inherited a competency from his father; and, possessing literary habits and tastes, had invested his patrimony in real estate, and, with his sister Mariana, retired to this rural paradise. Here he devoted his time to literature, and especially to the study of the German authors.

A day or two after the arrival of Edward, Miss Filmont announced at breakfast that she expected that day a visit from an intimate friend, who would spend some time in the family. Then, turning to Edward, she remarked –" This lady is one that you will like; she has all the vivacity of girlhood combined with the mature sense and reflection of a cultivated woman. She has read much and judiciously, for her husband (she is a widow now), himself a man of intellect and of elegant acquirements, selected her books and directed her course of reading. Brother Henry used to consider him an extraordinary man; and Mrs. Thorale –"

Here she was interrupted by her brother, who looked up with a quiet smile, and said – "Ah, Mariana, take care how you prepare my friend here for Ellen's arrival. They are already very much like combustibles, and you need not kindle and fan the flames beforehand. But since we are to have the pleasure of her company, let us make arrangements for our little pic-nic to come off' to-morrow; and you may invite whom you please, only do not neglect Miss Keelvay because you dislike her."

" Oh, Henry, let us not invite that Miss Keelvay! You know it is no foolish fancy that makes me dislike her; but her distorted mind, her ridiculous airs, and silly eccentricities make her really a very disagreeable companion."

"I grant you all that, sister; but if the faults of our acquaintances were made a sufficient reason for excluding them from our society, I fear we should not leave many left. As a stranger, and as a visitor at the house of our neighbor and friend, she is en- titled to our courtesy."

"Well, since you wish it, brother, I will invite her to accompany us to the heights opposite Huntingdon, which, I believe, you have selected for the place of our rural gathering."

"Do so, Mariana; and, to show you how much I am pleased with you in this matter, I promise you for to-morrow's entertainment a conversation upon that strange book, as you call it, the ' Niebelungen Lied.' How will you relish that at a pic-nic under the green trees?"

"Nothing better, for I have heard that this poem (I have not the resolution to try to pronounce its name) was written when Germany was half wilderness and the people half savage."

" My friend Edward will doubtless dispel much of our ignorance of the literature and character of the Germans; and may, perchance, make you laugh with us at poor Pere Bonhours and his silly question – 'Si un Allemand peut avoir de l'esprit.' "

"Why, Henry, the translations from German poetry by Bulwer and Longfellow, Jean Paul Richter in his English dress, and such men as Goethe, Schiller, and other great German authors, must have given, long ago, a silencing reply to the conceited Frenchman's query; but –"

"No such thorny logical connectives to-day, Mariana. To-morrow, when we are all comfortably seated in the shade of the trees, prepared for every species of fault-finding and laudation, you may bring out as many buts as you please. We shall leave you now to make your arrangements."

The day passed away, as days in a quiet country abode usually pass. Domestic duties engaged the attention of Mariana Filmot, while her brother spent the morning in his library, and Edward, With his gun, strolled about the fields and woods.

When Edward returned from his sporting trip, Miss Filmot met him at the door, and requested him to hasten with his evening toilet, for Mrs. Thorale had arrived, and several other ladies were in the parlor, one of whom was the odious Miss Keelvay. Edward was soon ready to enter, and was presented to Mrs. Thorala, Miss Keelvay, Miss Harriet and Angeline Ross, to Horace Ross, their brother, and finally to Captain Sanker. Edward's attention was immediately directed to the first two of the group; for, single their names had been mentioned to him, his imagination had been busily drawing a picture of each of these fair visitors. Mrs. Thorale was a brunette, with a form, slender, indeed, but of exquisite proportion; fine, bright, speaking eyes; and an expression of countenance so peculiar, that, taken in connection with her person, it would lead one to describe her as a kind of fairy Di Vernon. Miss Keelvay was a tall, robust blonde, with features which might have passed for handsome had not her nose been rather too much retrousse. This peculiarity, however, assisted her to display the eccentricity for which she was noted among her acquaintances, as it gave to her countenance a cast somewhat outre.

After a few commonplace remarks, Mrs. Thorale said to Edward –" It seems that I have arrived just in time to partake of an extraordinary pleasure, for Miss Filmot informs me that you are to aid her brother to-morrow in unveiling to our novice eyes some of the mysteries of our kith and kin, the Germans. I have long been an admirer of the German mind, and especially of the German heart; and nothing but the want of a competent guide has kept me at the portals of a temple which I long to enter and explore. I am sure it contains many gigantic, many curious, and many beautiful specimens both of the works of nature and art."

"You will not be disappointed," replied Edward, " if you once enter and catch the spirit of the place; but it requires time and effort to divest one's self of national and literary prejudices, and to prepare to appreciate and enjoy the peculiarities one meets with in that strange temple, as you are pleased to call it."

Here he was interrupted by Marians, who, with mock gravity, lifted her finger threateningly and said –" Brother Henry has interdicted all conversation on German literature to-day, so I will add my commands to his, Mr. Karsh, and bid you stop. But to-morrow – ay, to-morrow, we will enjoy the feast of reason and the flow of the German soul with the greater zest for our self-imposed abstinence to-day. By the way, Miss Keelvay, you will make one of our party to-morrow?"

Miss Keelvay, who had been engaged. in a half-whispered conversation with Horace Ross, turned abruptly round, and said – "Who are to compose your party, Miss Filmot? The pleasure of a pic-nic, more than that of any other party, depends upon the selection of the company."

To this rude question and ruder remark, Mariana mildly replied – " Our party will not be large: we intend it merely as a rural excursion, in order to enjoy nature in one of her happiest days; and we expect to derive most of our pleasure from the scenery around the spot, and from the conversation of' our friends. The members of our party are all present, with the exception of my brother, who is detained by necessary business."

Though Miss Keelvay seemed hardly satisfied with this information, she could do nothing less than accept the invitation with such grace as she was able.

Soon after this, the visitors took leave, and the inmates of the house retired to their chambers. Edward Karsh sat down and took a volume of Richter from the table; but though the book proved to be "Livana," it seemed to occupy his attention but partially. " Yes, yes," he said at length to himself, as if in answer to a question that had just caught his eye, "Jean Paul may think women like the gentle Otaheites, that are all mildness in their nature, yet ready to devour their enemies; but there is no rule without an exception. Mrs. Thorale has all the brilliancy of lightning, without its destructive power. She is beautiful, and yet no one would dare call her pretty. I am certain that she, if any, can stand the test of an intimate acquaintance, without fear of disclosing those common foibles which often prevent our esteeming women, though we cannot help admiring them." Then suddenly rousing himself from his reverie, he continued –" But what does all this' amount to? Surely, I have not been caught by a pair of bright eyes, fair tresses, and s bewitching smile? No, no! But we will see how she will appear by sunlight, Brilliant chandeliers in a well-appointed parlor often have a magical effect."

Opposite the village of Huntingdon is a beautiful hill, frequently used as a camp-ground for Sunday school parties. Few lovelier spots can be found in the country. On one side may be seen the village, the canal, and the river; the works of man, side by side with those of nature, spread out in calm repose; while, on the other, lofty mountains rise in grand contra»t, and fill the soul of the beholder with emotions of sublimity. Rustic tables and benches are embowered in the thick foliage of the oak, elm, and maple, and afford a welcome resting-place after the toilsome ascent. Beneath a cluster of these trees, the pic-nic party was seated; and, the morning repast being finished, Mariana reminded her brother of his promise to give them some account of German literature, and particularly of the lay of the Niebelungen. Let us, kind reader, listen to their discourse; for we, perhaps, may gather from it both amusement and instruction.

FILMOT. I must tell you, at the outset, dear sister, that I claim but a limited knowledge of the lore into which you inquire. The regions which we are about to enter have been justly called, even by German, " cloud land, gorgeous land;" and we must divest ourselves of many prepossessions in order to seize the essential spirit of the German mind, and to appreciate what will be presented for our contemplation. German literature, which now begins to attract the notice of the world, has had for centuries a domain of its own. Magnates have ruled in it; stars have risen and set in its firmament; a meridian sun has illumined it; and, again, Cimmerian darkness covered it, till a new light began to dawn – a light whose brightness has increased up to the present time, and adorned it with all the tints of the rainbow. Of much of this literary development and progress, the neighboring nations were for a long time as ignorant as of the transactions of the Celestial Empire. Germany was known to the world only as a nation of rude warriors and plodding boors.

MARIANA. That accounts for the query of Pere Bonhours, "Si un Allemand peut avoir de l'esprit."

KARSH. It may account for it, miss; but you will not contend that it justifies the ignorance of the good father. Before a man makes a remark offensive to an entire people, he ought at least to take pains to inform himself of their condition; otherwise he exposes, as in this instance, only his own ignorance and presumption.

MARIANA. It would have required much courage in the Frenchman to go on such a voyage of discovery; for these regions have always appeared to me to be cloudy, sombre, and enveloped in thick fogs.

FILMOT. Not at all: the voyage would leave required a little patience and perseverance, it is true; but these would have been rewarded by the discovery of gorgeous landscapes and fairy islands, surrounded, but not overshadowed, by these very clouds which you dread so much. For Germany had a golden age of literature before ours begun to dawn; and she can boast of what few modern nations can claim, a perfect epic, such as the Greeks alone can show, at a period which we are accustomed to consider destitute of poetic talent and sunk in barbarism.:: .This epic is the famous Lay of the Niebelungen.

Mrs. Thorale. And pray, Mr. Filmot, who was the author of that poem? I always like to know the name of the poet before I begin his work.

FILMOT. I believe the name of the author is unknown. Can you enlighten us on this point, Mr. Karsh?

KARSH. Lachman, who is probably the best living authority on this subject, has clearly shown that the Lay of the Niebelungen is not the production of any single author, but a collection of a number of popular songs, chanted in Homoric style for the entertainment of the people; and so well dovetailed together by the unknown compiler, that it requires the closest scrutiny to detect the seams between the once detached parts. Sixteen different poems are here woven into one – sometimes, it is true, at the expense of chronology (for many anachronisms are found in it); but giving us, in their combination, one of the finest pictures of an heroic age that can be found in any language. The lay leads us back to the very times when the northern pantheon, the old Valhalla, filled with its gods and demigods, had still a strong hold upon the feelings of the people. That pantheon, by the way, contained a world of wonders, more worthy of our study, as I shall hereafter show, than even Grecian and Roman mythology.

MRS. THORALE. Mr. Karsh, you seem quite enthusiastic on the subject of northern mythology. What attractions can you find in those rude and colossal demons of the north ? They have always seemed to ma the uncouth monsters of Fog Land.

Karsh. I am half inclined to laugh at you for looking at them through a foggy medium, and thus distorting their shape. I am confident that when you become acquainted with the Sagas of Frithiof; of Frya, of Thor, and some others, you will admit that they possess equal interest with the myths of the Greeks and the Romans, and have far less objectionable features. But I must no longer interrupt my friend Filmot, who, I perceive," is prepared to give us some account of the Niebetungen.

FILMOT. The book in my hand is, indeed, the Niebeluugen Lied, from which I propose to read some passages to illustrate my remarks. But let me first tell you that this poem has its basis in what is commonly called the cycle of Northern Fiction; a cycle composed of fourteen sectors, or separate poems, some of which contain a hundred thousand verses, some seventy thousand, some sixty thousand, and so downward.

MARIANA. Brother, brother, it is almost noon; and the shortest of these, if we are to listen here, will not only leave us dinnerless and supperless, but will convert our pic-nic into an encampment for the summer.

FILMOT. Be not alarmed Mariana; I shall not volunteer my services as a pride through these vast domains, where I am myself comparatively a stranger. Nor is it necessary that we should plod through them in the, old-fashioned way of traveling, since a royal road to the epic has been opened to us through the Heldenbuch, or Herobook. In this, we find almost all the germs from which the Lay of the Niebelungen has sprung. By relating to you the detached myths, as we find them in that book, we shall furnish you a clue to the poem.

MRS. THORALE. IS that the book or which you handed us, the other day, a French translation?

FILMOT. The same – but the translation is rather imperfect.

MRS. THORALE. If it is the same, we will excuse you from repeating all that is said in it about Chrimhilde and her garden of roses, as well as what refers to the Emperor Ottnit and the Turk, Machabol, with his dragon eggs, and many others. Only be kind enough to refresh our memories concerning the people that bear the same name with the epic, and what is related of their conqueror, who, if I remember rightly, is the hero of the poem.

FILMOT. Niebelungen-land, called also Niffland, or Nebel-land, means, in English, the land of mist, and also the land of obscurity. Its location has been a matter of dispute among the German antiquaries. Some have made it Jutland; others, some country in the far north of Europe. But, after all their researches, it is still to us, as Carlyle says, a laud " far beyond the firm horizon – a wonder-bear-ing region, that swims on the infinite waters unseen by bodily eye, or, at most, discerned as a faint streak hanging in the blue depths, uncertain whether island or cloud." There the Niebelungen had a hort (hoard), or treasure, which, according to tradition, was concealed in the bed of a river and on its shore, by dwarf demons, who had stolen it from its rightful owners, the god of Valhalla. The Niebelungen, in their turn, overcame these demons, and took from them their treasure, while they captured one of the dwarf demons, and made him keeper of the hort. But the gold, being stolen property, carried with it a curse, which was entailed on each successive possessor. We .hall meet with these Children of the Mist several times in the poem.

KARSH. I beg leave to add, that the theory concerning this hort is, that the children of the north, finding gold in the river and in the sand upon its shore, traced it to its source in the mountains, which were considered the dwelling-places of the gods, and hence concluded that the treasures must have been carried off from them – and who could rob the gods but the demons? Niebelungen-land was, in fact, only some ancient California.

MARIANA. I am sorry, Mr. Karsh, that you have dispelled my dream of aerial beings by your cold philosophical account of the hort. I had already commenced peopling my imaginary world with the various dwellers in that land of mist.

KARSH. You will have ample opportunity for such colonizing, even before you reach the epic, in the description which I presume your brother will give us of Siegfrid.

Here their attention was arrested by an exclamation from Miss Keelvay, who was standing upon a bench, apparently listening to some sound, the nature of which she was anxious to discover. Every one instantly became silent, and soon shared her surprise. The music of a guitar, played by no ordinary band, struck their ears, and a rich, mellow voice was heard singing the following lines: –

CHAPTER II.

Miss KEELVAY had been but an inattentive listener to the previous conversation, much of which she had lost by keeping up a fire of badinage with Horace Ross. The mysterious guitar-player, however, bad interested her so much, that she ceased coquetting with Mr. Ross, much to his displeasure, and fixed her whole mind on the unseen minstrel, whose performance she appropriated as an exclusive compliment to herself. This was doubtless the secret of the interest she evinced in the minstrelsy

As soon as the song had ceased, she exclaimed, with great vivacity, " Oh, that must be Dr. Mealy; he regretted so much that he was not one of our party, and wished he could be my cavalier servante for the day." 'Mrs. Thorale with difficulty suppressed a smile at the equivocal compliment conveyed by the Doctor's Italian, but Miss Keelvay did not observe this, and continued: "Do, Miss Mariana, send some one and invite him to join us."

"If Captain Sanker," replied Miss Filmot, "will consent to be our herald, he has powers plenipotentiary to summon the unknown minstrel into our august presence."

The captain rose with mock gravity, and, assuming a military attitude, inquired: "Shall I say, Miss Filmot, that a Witenagemote is held, before which ho must appear?"

"No, no! captain, who ever heard of ladies sitting in a Witenagemote? You know that the council, which our Anglo-Saxon ancestors called by that name, was composed of the sages of the nation; and men in those days, as in ours, never gave us credit for superior mental powers. If you will be Teutonic, go tell the wanderer that we celebrate the feast of Hertha, and that he is invited to share our rural festival."

Captain Sanker went on his mission, and soon returns with a young gentleman, who proved to be, not Dr. Mealy, but a stranger to almost every one of the company; I say almost, for Mr. Karsh approached him, and looking a moment in his face, exclaimed, "Develour! how do you come here? I might, have looked for you in the saloons of Paris, but certainly not amid the wild and romantic scenery of the Juniata. Ladies and gentlemen, permit me to present to you my friend and quondam fellow-traveler, Count Louis Develour. Though his name indicates French extraction, he was born on English soil, being a son of one of the emigres of the French Revolution." After an introduction to the individual members of the company, the count replied to his friend's inquiries by saying, that he had become weary of the insipid pleasures of Paris, and was now making a tour through a land to which he was daily becoming more and more attached; that in his wanderings he happened to come into this neighborhood, and, attracted by its natural beauties, he had already prolonged his stay several days. Guitar in hand, he had left his hotel that morning to seek the shady retreats of the groves, and, whiling away a few hours with some of the old northern songs, he was summoned to a party which appeared to him, under the circumstances, almost like a meeting of the Valkyrs.

Here Mariana replied, "And to us, Count Develour, you appear almost like one of the Witigans, sent to aid us in our inquiries into the lore of bygone Teutonic days; for we are assembled here to listen to songs of the ancient minstrels that celebrated the fearful fate of the heroes and nations of antiquity. Pray, what song was that which was the happy cause of your introduction into our little circle?"

"It was the song of Frithiof, who, waiting for his beloved Ingeborg, thus utters his feelings in solitude. After the song is ended, Frithiof and Ingeborg meet, and kneel before the altar of the divinity, where he plights his faith to Bele's daughter."

Here Miss Keelvay remarked, "Mr. Develour, as you come just now from .the gay and fascinating saloons of the French metropolis, you must think us very stupid to spend our time prying into the musty records of the past, when it might be spent so much more pleasantly in a lively feet champeter, such as I am told they get up so delightfully in the vicinity of the capital de mongd."

".Far from it, Miss Keelvay," replied the polite Frenchman, not seeming to notice her barbarous use of his paternal language; " so far from finding such conversations stupid, I have delighted in them from my youth, and have devoted no small part of my time, both at home and abroad, to the study of the history, literature, and manners of those remote ages."

"Then," said Mrs. Thorale, "it will require no apology, if we request Mr. Filmot to proceed with the story of Siegfrid, as related in the song of the Niebelungen."

" Certainly not," replied Develour; " the Lay of the Niebelungen has always been one of my favorite epics.

Mr. Filmot proceeded: "The epic opens by informing us that in the land of Burgund, at Worms, on the Rhine, there lived a royal maiden, the daughter of the king, who, having become an orphan by the death of her father, lived in strict seclusion under the protection of her mother Ute, and of her three brothers, Gunther, Gernat, and Giselher. Her name was Chrimhilde. In her seclusion, she has a mysterious communication with the invisible world, the denizens of which make known to her, by dreams and other portents, the fate that awaits her. Thus, in the very beginning of the poem, she is represented as foreshadowing in a dream a part of the terrible catastrophe of the epic: –

' Chrimhilde, innocent as fair, dreamed, as night whiled away,

That she a noble falcon mewed, for many an anxious day;

But soaring, it was fiercely clutched by wrathful eagles twain;

That she, entranced, must see it torn, did cause her heartfelt pain.'

" Awaking in terror, she relates the dream to her mother, who interprets it as follows: –

' The falcon thou dost foster so, a noble knight will be! Heaven guard his life! or, ere long time, he'll die by treachery.'

"Alarmed at the prediction, she replies: –

' Oh! hint not at the nuptial tie, dear mother, unto me,

For I by every wooing knight would unaccosted be;

My beauty, as a royal maid, I'll carry to the grave.'

"But her mother bids her

' Reject not so decidedly ———

————— thou'lt be a matchless wife.'

"The first shadow of the epic action here rises like a thin, small cloud on a beautiful morning sky, destined to grow thick and black, till, pregnant with thunder and fierce lightning, it overshadows the entire heavens.

"At the same time there lived in Santen, on the Rhine, Siegfrid, the son of King Sigismund and Queen Sigelind, who, while yet a boy, had performed deeds worthy of the greatest heroes. He heard of the wonderful beauty of the maiden at Worms, and he, the handsomest, the bravest, and the most joyous hero-youth of his age, goes forth to woo the most modest and beautiful maid of the continent. But again n warning, like a spirit-voice, breathes through the poem: –

' And when 'twas told to Sigelind – the queen so rich and mild,

She great anxiety endured, 'bout him, her gallant child; For she well knew King Gunther's court – also his stalwart men;

All, therefore, tried to turn his mind from wooing there and then.'

"But the Siegfrid goes forth with rich gifts and costly arms, accompanied by only a few warriors. He arrived before the royal castle at Worms in such splendor, that

' There did the people, one and all, begin to stare and peer;

Many of Gunther's serving-men ran out as they drew near."

"No one, however, knows them; no one can give an account of their youthful leader. Then Hagen Von Tronei is sent for, to whom every prince and warrior of renown was known, but he also confesses that he had never seen the youthful hero. But after some surmises, he adds –

'I'm fain to own, though traveled much beyond our Burgundie,

It ne'er befell, by any chance, that I did Siegfrid see;

Yet will I vouch, on best belief,– not doubting I am right,

That yonder stately striding chief is he – that valiant knight.

'Therefore 1 counsel that the chief be courteously received,

And we deserve not such rebuke, as he deals out, when grieved.

Besides, his form of finest mould induces courtesy; He has effected by his arm rare feats of potency.'

"He then relates a part of Siegfrid's previous history and deeds; how the Shilbung and Niebelung, sons of the King of the Niebelungen, fell out, after the death of their father, in an attempt to divide the immense hort, or treasure, left by him; and how Siegfrid, who happened to pass that way, was chosen their umpire, and was to receive as his reward the famous sword, Balmung, which was irresistible, and could cleave steel and rocks. Siegfrid made a just division, but both parties were dissatisfied, and resolved to kill him. Siegfrid, however, slew both the giants with his good sword, conquered the land of the Niebelungen, and became sole possessor of the Niebelungen-hort. But the dwarf, Alberich, keeper of the treasure, wished to avenge his lords. Possessed of the so-called Tarn-cappe (a cloak which made its wearer invisible), he attacked Siegfrid. But Siegfrid overcame him also, took from him the Tarncappe, and, locking up the treasure in a mountain castle, compelled him to guard it.

" Hagen further relates how Siegfrid had slain a dragon, and had bathed in his blood, which imparted to his skin the toughness of horn, without diminishing its softness. Hence his name Siegfrid, which means, with the horny skin. "Siegfrid is then admitted to the royal presence."

MRS. THORALE. Why is it that a cap or cloak, which makes its wearer invisible, plays its role in the legends of almost every nation? The Greeks had it. The Orientals are full of it. The Normans, the Saracens, the Saxons, to say nothing of the Scandinavians and Gauls, all have it among their myths; and yet, of all others, it seems to me to have the least claim to beauty, and the least foundation in natural causes.

KARSH. The Tarn-cappe owes its origin, in all probability, to a prevailing faith in the existence of invisible powers superior to men. The good and the bad were under the influence of these spiritual powers; and what more natural than that these powers should endow their favorites with a measure of their own superiority? As man, in the infancy of his development, cannot comprehend the doing of any act without visible means, a cap, a scarf, or a ring is made the material instrument, or "charm," by which the miracle is wrought. And in those days of slow traveling, may not the sudden appearance of a hero, who was supposed to be a hundred miles distant, have suggested to the multitude some supernatural agency, especially if he appeared among them with an outlandish piece of apparel, the use of which they were unable to divine? Would not the marvelous journeys and marches of Charles XII. of Sweden, have given ample ground for such legends ' to an ignorant and superstitious people?

DEVELOUR. Why need we labor so assiduously to account for these wonders, by making them the mere offspring of superstition, when we have abundant facts around us, as inexplicable as they, and yet, if we may trust our senses, undeniably true? Magnetism may account for some; but can it satisfactorily account for all? Is it more marvelous for one man to make himself invisible, than for another, by a few simple material means, to bring before his fellow-beings his past and present thoughts, and, by a little effort, his future?

MARIANA. You do not mean to say that you believe this to be possible?

DEVELOUR. Not only do I mean to say that it is possible, but that I have seen it done. During my stay with the followers of Shastemundi, and with the Dervises of the Ganges, I was initiated into many of their mysteries, and have been reluctant, ever since, to deny the truth of many things which seem to be mere legends of a superstitious age.

Every one of the company was surprised at the words of the stranger, and even Mr. Karsh hardly knew what to think or say. A profound silence ensued. At length, Miss Keelvay broke the spell by asking, not without some trepidation, " And are you willing to give us a specimen of the art which you learned among these outlandish men! Will you tell me the past of my life, and show me the future? Can you do this without any of the frightful scenes which I have read of as the accompaniments of such experiments?"

After a few moments' hesitation, Develour replied: " I can and will do all that you request; nor need you fear the preparations and forms of the experiment. But let me warn you to be satisfied with the past and the present; let the future remain in the obscurity in which it is wisely hid from us."

Miss KEELVAY. No, no; let me see all, if you can show it to me.

Develour then asked for Port, or some other dark-colored wine, and for a goblet, or any vessel with a wide mouth. Both were produced. Again there was a profound silence. Every one was absorbed in strange thoughts. The Niebelungen Lied was for the moment forgotten, and every eye was directed to the young Frenchman.

It was a picturesque group, thus assembled under the shade of the primeval forest. The sun had almost reached the meridian, yet so dense was the foliage of the ancient oaks, that only here and there a ray of sunlight penetrated the green canopy and rested on some one of the company. On the trunk of a fallen tree sat Filmot, his book still in his hand, his eye fastened on Develour, and unconscious of the presence of any one else; for he too had been a dreamer, and he still loved to wander in the land of mysteries. Next to him sat his sister, with one arm resting on him and the other on her lap, glancing timidly from the stranger to her brother, and then again at the stranger. Mr. Karsh and Mrs. Thorale sat on another prostrate trunk, on the left of Filmot, he with his head resting upon his hand, while she, forgetting her usually exquisite sense of propriety, gave way to a slight faintness, and assumed a half-recumbent position, with her elbow resting on the log. The Rosses and Captain Sanker formed a little group on the right of Filmot. The faces of all the company wore an expression of curiosity, mingled with apprehension. Develour stood in front of Fil-mot, by the side of a rude seat which he had drawn thither for Miss Keelvay. At that moment, a passingddcloud obscured the sun, and gave to the dense shadeda darker end gloomier hue. Develour poured thedwine into the goblet, which he held in his left hand,dthen passed the tip of his finger several times arounddthe rim of the goblet, breathed strongly upon thedliquid, and, presenting it to Miss Keelvay, requesteddher to breathe upon it in like manner, and to awaitdthe result. She received the goblet with a tremulous hand, and did as she was directed. Vaporsdthen seemed to arise upon the edge of the cup, anddthe liquid,. till then clear, became troubled and turbid.dAfter awhile the liquor again settled, and its surfacedbecame smooth and transparent as a mirror.

" Look upon the surface," said Develour, whodwas standing behind Miss Keelvay, " and tell medwhat you see."

Miss Keelvay replied –

" I see the incidents of my early childhood in thedtown of E. My sister and I are playing on the college hill. I am on the point of falling over the precipice, and am rescued by a young man, who immediately leaves me."

" Breathe again upon the wine," said Develour.

She obeyed, and immediately exclaimed –

"The scene is changed. Oh, this is wonderful!dThe very events that occurred only two years ago,dwhen I was at Green Brier, in Virginia, are all here,deven to the running away of the horses. Rut stop;dwhy does the image of that young man, whom I metdagain at those Springs, pass by so quickly? Oh, Idwish I could stop it!"

Develour interrupted her unconscious soliloquy,dand said –

" Breathe once more upon the wine."

She did so,' but now her countenance changed,dwhile she continued to speak as if under some involuntary impulse.

"All changed again! In a large mansion in a great city! They adorn me for a bridal party; I am a bride, and the young man I met at the Springs is the bridegroom! We are married; – but what is this? Mr. H. falls upon the floor; a man feels his pulse, shakes his head, and my own image falls be- side him. the same doctor feels my pulse and shakes his head. The guests are agitated, and, weeping, they carry us out. A funeral and two coffins! Dead: O God! dead on my wedding day!" and she dropped the goblet, which broke into many pieces. Pale as a corpse, she leaned against a tree, in order to keep from fainting.

Develour stood behind her with folded arms, his features as rigid as those of a marble statue. Breaking the silence, he said –

"You ought not to have broken the goblet; I . thought I saw you among the mourners."

" Oh, if you think so, prepare another goblet, and let me learn the truth."

"Impossible," said Develour; "only one goblet can be prepared during the same moon for the same person. So it is laid down by my Oriental teachers; and only three magic mirrors may be prepared by the same operator during the space of a night and a day."

Mrs. Thorale now addressed Mr. Develour, and requested him to prepare a mirror for her.

Develour replied: " I will not refuse you my services to the extent of my power, in this matter; but I advise every one to leave the magic mirror unconsulted. I have never consulted it myself."

Mrs. Thorale insisted, and he prepared the mirror. When he was about to place it in her hand, she said –

" Can you not look into it yourself, and answer me such inquiries as I may make, without telling me all you see?"

Develour replied in the affirmative; and she breathed upon the mirror and gave it back to him.

As soon as he had axed his eyes upon the fluid, he became pale; but uttered not a word till addressed by Mrs. Thorale. Drawing a deep breath, she asked –

" What of the present? Where are my thoughts now?"

Develour replied: " Vacillating between earth and the spirit land."

Mrs. Thorale continued: "And what keeps my thoughts on earth?"

" The love of abstract thought and a poetic imagination," said Develour.

"And what," said Mrs. Thorale, "of the future ? Am I to die young or old, single or married, a natural death or a violent one?"

Develour bade 'her breathe again on the cup, and then answered: "You will die young and single; not a natural death, and yet not a violent one."

Then, as if to prevent further inquiries, Develour turned to the others and said: "I think we have too long interrupted Mr. Filmot's account of the Niebelungen Lied; and I presume that enough has been exhibited of this Eastern art to satisfy all, that "there are more things in heaven and earth than e'er were dreamed in our philosophy."

Filmot replied: "No, no; I have often dreamed of such powers, and they shall not escape me now without a personal trial of them. Lot me breathe upon the cup, and then tell me the future; I care not for the past and the present."

Develour bowed, and handing him the goblet, said: " If that is your wish, breathe three times over the wine before you return it to me."

Filmot complied, and returned the cup. " And now, Mr. Develour, what will be my fate within the next five years?"

Develour looked long upon the wine, and finally said; " To leave your native land; to visit a kingdom ruled by a Nestor among monarchs; to be an eye-witness of the overthrow of that king; to aid in the disorganization of that kingdom; to be looked upon with suspicion by the new government; to return to your native land; to become the involuntary abettor of a lawless mob in one of its largest cities; to cause the death of two of that mob; and, finally, to escape with your life, a cripple, made such by the citizen soldiers of your own republic."

Having listened with profound attention to these predictions, Filmot remarked: "Nothing is more improbable than that all or any one of these events should occur. I am averse to traveling, still more averse to mingling in a crowd, and deem it next to impossible that I should ever be found in a mob. If, therefore, you prove to be a true prophet in this instance, I shall ever after he a firm believer in the loftiest pretensions of your art."

Develour bowed, but made no reply. Harriet and Aniline Ross, and their brother, were seated at a little distance during this scene, awe and terror depicted on their countenances; while Captain Sanker, who leaned against an old oak tree, with his arms folded upon his breast, was a silent and evidently a skeptical observer of the exhibition. He shook his head several times during the performance, and a slight curl of his lip made it manifest that he regarded the whole thing as a clever trick of legerdemain. Miss Keelvay, had, in the mean time, taken a seat near him, as if seeking, in his society, relief from the feelings of dread and fear that had seized her.

In order to turn the conversation, and change the current of thought which had spread, like a dark cloud, over the company, he said –

" We have ventured far enough upon enchanted ground. Let us beware the fate of Thomas the Rhymer, lest we be compelled to remain, by some imprudence of ours, seven or thrice seven years in these regions. I propose therefore that we return, while we yet have opportunity, to the material world, and to the heroes of flesh and blood. Favor us stilt further, Mr. Filmot, with the adventures of your knight, Siegfrid, whom we saw introduced at the court of Burgund-land."

Filmot, who had remained in a thoughtful mood, was roused from his abstraction by the request of Sanker, and, collecting his thoughts, resumed his narrative.

"Immediately after Siegfrid's reception by King Gunther, we find him displaying the rash and reckless character peculiar to the northern warriors of that age. King Gunther inquires of him his object in making so long a journey. Siegfrid replies that he has heard of the prowess of the king, and has come to measure swords with him and to overthrow him. The king's followers, astounded at such audacity, seize their swords; but, through the mediation of Hagen, an amicable adjustment is effected, and Siegfrid becomes an inmate of the royal castle.

"A full year has he spent there without a sight of the royal maid whom he came to woo, when, suddenly, the Saxon king, Liudiger, and the Danish king, Liudegast, came with a great host to conquer Gunther and his Burgund-land. Siegfrid immediately is placed at the head of Gunther's forces, overcomes Liudegast, and sends him a prisoner to Gunther. He then attacks the Saxons, and conquers them also, The battle being over, the heroes return to the castle, where they are received with open arms and great rejoicings. Thus ends the second book of the legend. Some parts of the description of the battle are really fine; for example, where Siegfrid, on the eve of the engagement, addresses his soldiers –

' The Burgund knights were told to bind the banner to the spear,

And Siegfrid shouted to his friends: " Cheer up, the foe is near

If I do live, before the light of this day's sun be gone,

We'll give some Saxon mothers cause to wish they ne'er had borne.

Ye warriors of the fruitful Rhine, be bold, and follow me;

For I will lead you to the foe, King Liudger's yeomanry.

There will you see helm-hewing rare, by most heroic hands;

We turn not till we've met the foe and scattered all his bands!''

"The battle begins, and

' The knights of Denmark, nothing loth, fought bravely in the field,

One heard their blows fall heavily on many a Burgund shield;

And many a broken, keen-edged sword upon the grass did lie –

The brave of Saxony, likewise, did combat manfully.

"Wherever Gunther's knights pressed on, they gave the foe no law,

And everywhere, where falchions flashed, one gaping gashes saw.

The horses' flank and saddle-cloth, dripped streams of living blood;

Right dauntlessly, for honor's sake, the warring knighthood stood.'

" In the third book, Siegfrid has an interview with Chrimhilde. He becomes deeply enamored, and she returns his love. In this book, we also have descriptions of the feasts and warlike amusements of the heroes of old. Meanwhile, Siegfrid, like a true knight, deems himself unworthy of such a treasure as his lady love appears in his eyes, and, influenced by these feelings, resolves to return home; but Gunther and his brothers persuade him to remain.

" The fourth book introduces the lady, who is mainly the cause of the subsequent tragedy. The reader is led from Burgund, on the merry Rhine, far over the sea to a northern and foggy shore. There lives the beautiful Brunhilda. What a woman!

' There was, famed daughter of a king, who dwelt far o'er the sea:

With her none other maid could vie in Corm or dignity.

Beyond all measure she was fair, and prowess-full I ween,

With wooing knight her hand she staked on cast of javelin keen.

' The ponderous atone she far could hurl, and bound beyond the mass;

Such knights as suitored for her love had Brunhild to surpass.

Three several games the wooer brave must win ere she would wed;

Failed he in one, forthwith was he dispatched by loss of head.'

"Gunther has heard of her surpassing beauty and wealth, and determines to sue for the hand of this Amazon, although his brothers and all his friends endeavor to dissuade him from making the attempt.

"When Hagen, who seems to be the Mentor of these knights of the golden fleece, saw that his resolution could not be changed, he advises Gunther to take Siegfrid with him. Siegfrid consents to accompany the king on condition of receiving Chrimhilde in marriage on their return. Then follows a beautiful description of the industry and skill displayed by the royal maiden and her attendants, who prepare the outfit for the adventurers. We are then led down the Rhine, and across the waters to the strong castle of Isenstein, where the proud Brunhilda dwelt.

" The strangers are received with great courtesy, and Brunhilda addresses Siegfrid, in particular, with great kindness.

'Welcome to me, Sir Siegfrid, welcome to Isenland!

The purport of thy coming here I fain would understand.'

"She seems to know him, and to be pleased with, his arrival; and yet, when he explains the object of their journey –

' Behold here now, the King of Rhine, Gunther, the rich and strong,

Whose only object is thy love, which he 11 possess ere long;

With him, on that account, in truth, I left my native home,

Had he not been my sovereign lord, I surely had not come,'

She at once assumes the haughty bearing of the queen, and receives him only as the subject of Gunther, without the slightest manifestation of any previous acquaintance. Throughout the remainder of the poem, she evidently persists in an assumed ignorance of Siegfrid's real position and character; yet there is nothing which explains the mystery, or informs us when or how they had met before. This passage has always puzzled me; for there seems to be a gap in the narrative, which, if filled up, might render explicable much of Brunhilda's subsequent conduct."

KARSH. You are right. The filling up of that blank would explain all that appears strange in her treatment of Siegfrid; but, in order to fill it up, we must have recourse to the Volsungsaga, or Legend of the Volsung, where we find an account of the adventures of Siegfrid previous to his acquaintance with Gunther. I will relate them as they are found there; but I shall be obliged to bring forward with them several of those foggy monsters (as Mrs. Thorale calls them) that belong to the mighty northern pantheon.

(To be continued.)

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