day, yet by night we seemed to retrace our course, for when the sun rose we found ourselves always upon the same spot. We could not explain this in any other way, than that each night the Dead sailed back again with a fair wind. In order to guard against this, we drew in the sails before night came, and took the same precautions with those that we had taken with the door in the cabin; we wrote the name of the Prophet upon parchment, together with the spell, and bound them around the furled sails. We awaited the result with great anxiety in our closet. This night the spectres seemed to rage worse than ever, but on the following morning we found the sails all furled as we had left them. During the day we set as many sails as were necessary to urge the ship gently along, and after five days we had made a good stretch

upon our way.

Finally, on the morning of the sixth day, we discovered land at a little distance, and we thanked Allah and his Prophet for our wonderful deliverance. During this day and the following night, we sailed slowly along the coast, and on the seventh morning we thought we could see a city not far off. With much trouble we dropped an anchor into the sea, which soon took the ground; then got out a small boat which was upon the deck, and rowed with all our might towards the shore. In half an hour we entered a river which poured itself into the sea, and landed. At the gate of the city we inquired after the name of the place, and learned that it was a city in India, not far from the one for which I had at first embarked. We entered a caravanserai, and refreshed ourselves from the fatigues of our hazardous voyage. I inquired there after a wise and learned man, giving the host to understand that I wished to see one who had some skill in magic. He conducted me through a remote street, to a mean house, knocked, and then bade me enter, telling me I must inquire for Muley. An old man, with a white beard and long nose, came to meet me as I entered, and asked my business. I told him I sought the wise Muley, and he answered me that it was himself. I now asked his advice as to what I should do with the dead, and what means I should take to get them from the ship. He answered, "that the crew of that ship had probably been

enchanted upon the sea for some crime; he believed the spell would vanish if they were once brought to land, but this could not be effected unless the boards were removed upon which they lay." He added, "that the ship, with its treasures, belonged to me, both by law and justice, for it might be said that I had found them, as it were; still, however, I must keep everything secret, and for a small present out of my abundance, he would assist me with his slaves to remove the dead." I promised to reward him richly, and we set out, accompanied by five slaves, provided with axes and saws. On our way, the magician could not sufficiently praise our happy expedient of winding about the sails sentences from the Koran. It was the only means he said which could have saved us.

It was still tolerably early in the day when we arrived at the ship. We set immediately to work, and in an hour four of the bodies lay already in the boat. Some of the slaves rowed them to land, in order to inter them. They related when they returned, that the dead had saved them the trouble of a burial, having fallen to dust as soon as they had been placed upon the earth. We continued to remove the bodies, and before evening they were all brought to land. At last there were none on board, except the one who was nailed to the mast. We tried in vain to draw the nail from the wood, no force could stir it a hair's breadth. I knew not what to do, as we could not cut down the mast for the sake of taking it on shore. But Muley helped me out of this embarrassment. He ordered a slave to row quickly to the land to procure a vessel filled with earth. When it was brought, the magician pronounced some mysterious words, and strewed the earth upon the head of the dead man. The latter immediately unclosed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and the wound from the nail in his forehead commenced to bleed. We now drew the nail easily out, and the wounded man fell into the arms of one of the slaves.

"Who has brought me here?" he said, after he had seemed to revive a little. Muley pointed to me, and I stepped near to him. "I thank thee, unknown stranger. Thou hast rescued me from long torments. For fifty years has my body sailed over these waves,

and my spirit was condemned each night to return to it. But my head has at last touched the earth, and I can go reconciled to my fathers." I prayed him to relate to us how he had come into that frightful condition, and he said: "Fifty years ago I was a noble, powerful man, and dwelt at Algiers. Love of gain impelled me to fit out a ship and commence piracy. I had already carried on this trade for some time, when at Zante I took a Dervish on board, who wished to make the voyage without expense. I and my companions were rude people, and had but little reverence for the sanctity of the man; we even made him our continual sport. One night, in holy zeal he had pointed out to me the sinfulness of my present course of life, and having retired to my cabin, where I drank freely with the helmsman, I became overpowered by anger at the recollection of it. Enraged at what a Dervish had said, and which I would have permitted no sultan to say to me, I rushed upon deck and plunged a poignard in his breast. Expiring, he cursed me and my crew with this curse, that we should neither die nor live until our heads had touched the earth.' The Dervish died; we threw him into the sea, and laughed at his threats; but in that self-same night his words were fulfilled. A part of my crew mutinied against me. We fought with dreadful fury until those of my party were slain, and I myself nailed to the mast. The mutineers also died of their wounds, and soon my ship was naught but a great grave. My eyes lost their sight, my breath stopped, and I thought I was dying. But it was a torpor only that held me bound. In the following night, and in the same hour in which I had thrown the Dervish into the sea, I awoke, and life returned to all my companions; but we could do and say nothing but

Thus related the slave. After he had ended, the Sheik Ali Banu directed fruits to be handed to him, and to the other slaves to refresh them, and while they ate discoursed with his friends. But the young men whom the old man had introduced were full of admiration at the Sheik, at his house and all his regulations. Truly," said the young scribe, "there is no more pleasant pastime than to listen to stories like these. I could sit thus for days, with my legs crossed, my right arm supported upon a

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what we had done and spoken on that night. Thus have we sailed for fifty years, neither living nor dead, and unable either to live or die, for how could we reach the land? With wild pleasure we sailed always with every sail set in a storm, for we hoped at last to dash upon some rock, and that our weary heads might find repose at the bottom of the sea. It has not happened to us.

But now I shall die. Receive once more my thanks, unknown stranger; if treasures can reward thee, take my ship as a memorial of my gratitude."

His head drooped when he had thus spoken, and he expired. He also, like his companions, fell immediately to dust. We collected it in a box, and buried it on shore. I then engaged workmen of the city, who put my ship in good condition. After I had exchanged the wares which I had on board, for others at a good profit, I hired sailors, richly rewarded my friend Muley, and embarked for my native city. On my way I stopped at many islands, and disposed of my merchandise. The Prophet blessed my undertakings. After nine months I landed at Balsora, having doubled the property which the dying captain had left me. My neighbors were astonished at my wealth and good fortune, and believed nothing else than that I had found the diamond valley of the renowned traveller Sinbad. I left them to their belief, and from that time forth it is the custom of the young people of Balsora, when they are about eighteen years old, to go forth into the world like me, to seek their fortune. I lived for a long while happily and in peace, and every five years I made a journey to Mecca, to thank Allah for his blessings on that holy spot, and to pray for the captain and his crew that they may be received into Paradise. Misfortunes which it would weary you to hear, at last threw me into your hands, my lord.

cushion, my forehead resting upon one hand, and, if it might be, the Sheik's long chibouk in the other, and listen to such narrations. About in this manner I represent to myself the life in the gardens of Mahomet." "So long as yon are young and can labor," said the old man, "you cannot be in earnest in such a slothful wish. But I grant you there is a peculiar charm in this pastime. As old as I am, and I am upon the verge of my seven-and-seventieth year, as much too as I have heard in my life,

yet I disdain not when the narrator sits in a corner, and the listeners gather in a circle around him, to join myself also to them, and listen with them. One dreams then that he is in the midst of those events which are related, he lives with those men, with those wonderful spirits, with fairies and beings of a like nature, whom we meet not every day, and he has afterwards matter to repeat to himself when he is alone, like the pilgrim who has well provided himself when he travels through the wilder

"I have never reflected," said another of the young people, "wherein the charm of such stories truly lies. But it is with me as with yourself. When a mere child, if I was fretful and impatient, I could be soothed by a story. At first it was indifferent to me of what it treated, if it only contained some incident: how often have I listened without weariness to those fables which wise men have invented, and in which they have laid a kernel of their wisdom; of the Fox and the foolish Raven, of the Fox and the Wolf, and many stories of the Lion and the rest of the beasts. When I grew older, and came more among men, these short tales no more delighted me. They must be longer, must treat of men and their singular fortunes."

"Yes, I remember well that time," interrupted one of his friends. "It was thou who didst inspire us with the desire for narratives of all kinds. One of thy slaves had as much to relate as a camel-driver could tell all the way from Mecca to Medina. When he had finished his labor, he must seat himself by

us upon the grass, before the house, and we would not cease entreating him until he commenced, and then he must keep it up until the night interrupted us.'

"And then was unlocked to us," replied the scribe, "a new, an unknown kingdom, the land of Genii and Fairies, adorned with all the wonders of the vegetable world, with rich palaces of emeralds and rubies, with giant slaves, who appeared when a ring was turned, or a wonderful lamp rubbed, or Solomon's word spoken, and brought delicious food on golden dishes. We felt ourselves involuntarily transported to that land, we went with Sinbad upon his wonderful voyages, we accompanied Haroun al Raschid, the wise commander of the faithful, we knew Giafar, his vizier, as well as we knew each other, in short, we lived in those stories as at night we live in dreams, and there was for us no happier time in the day than the evening, when we assembled upon the grass plot, and the old slave narrated to us. But tell us, old man, wherein lies it truly that we were then so delighted with this pastime; whence is it that even now, there is no more pleasant entertainment for us than this?"

The stir which arose in the chamber, and the call for attention, which was made by the overseer of the slaves, prevented the old man from replying. The young people knew not whether to be pleased that they were to hear a new story, or to be vexed that their interesting conversation with the old man had been interrupted; but a second slave stood up, and began.

"My lord, I am a German by birth, and have dwelt too short a time in your land, to be able to relate a Persian tale, or a pleasing story of sultans or viziers. You will permit me, therefore, to narrate something of my native country, which may, perhaps, amuse you. Our stories rarely rise to so lofty a pitch as those of your land, that is, they do not treat of sultans, who with us are called kings, nor of viziers and pachas, whom we term ministers of justice and finance, privy counsellors, and the like, but (unless, perhaps, they bring in the soldier and his achievements) commonly de

scribe quiet domestic life as it is found among our citizens.

"In the southern part of Germany lies the village of Grünwiesel, where I was born and brought up. It is like all other villages-a small square with a fountain in the middle, on one side a little old court-house, around the square the houses of the justice of the peace and the most respectable merchants, and in a few narrow streets the dwellings of the rest of the inhabitants. All are acquainted; each one knows how it goes here or there; and if the parson, or the burgomaster, or the doctor, has an extra

dish upon the table, the whole village is informed of it before the dinner is fairly over. In the afternoon the women make their visits, as they call them, to one another, talk of important matters, over strong coffee and sweet cake, and come to weighty conclusions, that the parson, perhaps, has bought a ticket in the lottery, and gained a large sum in that unholy manner, that the burgomaster has been bribed, or the doctor feed by the apothecary, to order expensive prescriptions. You can imagine, my lord, how disagreeable it must have been, for a well-regulated village like Grünwiesel, when a man entered the place, of whom no one could tell whence he came, what was his errand, or by what means he lived. The burgomaster, it is true, had seen his passport, which every one must have, with us-'

"Is it then so unsafe upon the roads," said the Sheik, interrupting the slave in his narration, "that you must have a firman from your sultan, to keep robbers in awe ?"

“No, my lord,” replied the slave, "these papers do not protect us from robbery; it is only for the sake of order, that wherever one is, he may know by what kind of people he is surrounded. Now the burgomaster had examined his passport, and had declared one evening at the doctor's, that it was correctly drawn up from Berlin to Grünwiesel, but still there must be something in the background, for the man had certainly a suspicious appearance. The burgomaster was held in the greatest respect by the village; no wonder, therefore, that the stranger was henceforth looked upon as a person of doubtful character. His mode of life also did not help to alter this opinion of my countrymen. For a few pieces of gold the stranger hired an entire house that hitherto had stood uninhabited; he had procured a carriageload of singular furniture, such as stoves, furnaces, crucibles, and things of the like nature, and from that time forth lived altogether by himself. He even cooked his own victuals, and no human soul entered the house, except an old man of the village, who purchased his bread, meat, and vegetables, but even this one was allowed to come no farther than the hall, where the stranger received from him all which he had bought.

I was a boy about ten years of age, when this man entered my native place,

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and I can still remember, as though it were yesterday, the disturbance which he caused in our village. In the afternoon he was never seen like the other men at the bowling-alley; in the evening he came not to the tavern, to smoke a pipe of tobacco over the newspapers like the rest. In vain the burgomaster, the justice of the peace, the doctor, the parson, invited him in turn to dinner, or to drink coffee; he always excused himself. For these reasons some thought him a madman, others a Jew, but the greatest number stoutly maintained that he was a magician or enchanter. I grew up to be eighteen-twenty years old, and still this man was always called in the village the strange gentleman.

It happened one day that some people came to the place with foreign animals, one of those wandering caravans, which boasts, perhaps, of a camel that can make a bow, a dancing bear, and a few dogs and apes, dressed up comically enough in men's clothes, which perform various tricks. These people commonly march through a city, stop at all the corners and squares, make wretched music with a little drum and fife, let their troop leap and dance, and then collect money from the neighboring houses. But the band which this time came into Grünwiesel, was remarkable for an enormous Ourang-outang, almost as large as a man, that walked upon two legs, and knew how to perform many wonderful feats. They appeared, at last, in turn, before the house of the stranger. As the drum and fife sounded, he was observed behind the dark age-tarnished window, and at first seemed displeased and indignant; soon, however, he became more pleasant and friendly; to the astonishment of all he opened the window to look out, laughed as heartily at the tricks of the Ourang-outang, and even paid for his amusement with so large a piece of money that the whole village spoke of it.

On the following morning the caravan departed, the camel carrying a number of baskets, in which the dogs and apes sat very comfortably, while the men and Ourang-outang followed. Scarce were they an hour or two out of the gate, when the strange gentleman sent to the post-house, and to the great astonishment of all, desired a carriage and horses, and rode out at the same gate, and in the same direction which the animals had taken. It was already

night when the stranger returned, and drove up to the gate; there was now, however, another person with him in the carriage, who had his hat drawn down over his face, and a silk handkerchief bound over his mouth and ears. The clerk at the gate considered it his duty to address the other stranger, and demand his passport, bnt the latter answered very roughly, grumbling something in a language altogether unintelligible to him.

"It is my nephew," said the strange gentleman to the clerk, in a very friendly manner, while he slipped some silver into his hand, "it is my nephew, he understands very little German, as yet. He has only cursed a little in his language, because we are detained in this way."

"Ah! if it is your nephew, sir," answered the clerk, "he can, indeed, enter without a pass-he will live with you, without doubt ?"

"Certainly," said the stranger," and he will, probably, remain here for a long time."

The clerk had no farther objections, and the stranger, with his nephew, rode into the town. The burgomaster, and the whole village, were not very well pleased with the conduct of the clerk; he ought, at least, to have remarked some words of the nephew's language, as by that means they could easily have found out of what country he and his uncle were. The clerk declared that it was neither French nor Italian, but it sounded broad like the English, and if he was not mistaken the young gentleman had said "G-d-." Thus the clerk helped himself out of his difficulty, and the young man to a name, for they now spoke in the village of hardly anything else but the young Englishman.

But this young Englishman also was never visible, neither upon the bowlinggreen nor in the tavern; he gave the people, however, enough to do in another way. It happened often, to wit, that a frightful noise and screaming came from the dwelling of the stranger, which was formerly so still, so that the people would collect in crowds, and look up at the house. They could see the young Englishman in a red frockcoat and green pantaloons, with hair erect and frightful countenance, running with incredible quickness by the windows, backward and forward, from chamber to chamber, while the old stranger would

run after him in a red dressing-gown, and with a hunting-whip in his hand. It was evident that he often missed him, but sometimes it seemed to the crowd in the street, as if he must have struck the young man, for they heard pitiful cries of distress, and the lashes of the whip sound very distinctly. The ladies of the village took such a lively interest in this cruel treatment of the young stranger, that they at last induced the burgomaster to take a step in the affair. He wrote a note to the strange gentleman, in which he upbraided him with his rigorous treatment of his nephew in tolerably strong terms, and threatened, that if such scenes were to occur again, he would take the young man under his especial protection.

But who could be more astonished than the burgomaster, when he saw the stranger himself enter the house, for the first time in ten years? The old gentleman excused his conduct, with the plea, that such had been the particular charge of the parents of the young man, who had committed him to his care to be educated; he was, in other respects, a ready and apt youth, he declared, but languages he learned with surprising slowness; he wished anxiously, he added, "to bring his nephew to speak the German with fluency, in order that he might then take the liberty of introducing him to the society of Grünwiesel, and yet he caught this language with such extreme difficulty, that oftentimes he could take no better course than to beat it into him with a hunting-whip. The burgomaster was perfectly satisfied with this explanation, counselled the old gentleman to moderation, and declared that evening in the tavern, "that he had rarely known so agreeable and well-informed a man as the stranger. "Tis only a pity," he added, "that he goes so little into society, but I think that when his nephew can once speak a little German, he will visit our circle often."

The opinion of the whole village was entirely altered by this occurrence. They now looked upon the stranger as an agreeable man, longed for a more intimate acquaintance with him, and found it perfectly in order, when, at times, a frightful screaming was heard in the dreary house. "He is giving his nephew instructions in the German," said the people of Grünwiesel, and remained no more standing before the