the machinery of genii, magicians, talismans, rings, lamps, and enchanted horses.

To this fourth edition, and it may be to an earlier, the author attached the following airy and graceful ‘DEDICATION :'

Vision of beauty, dear Undine,
Since led by storied light,

I found you, mystic sprite,

How soothing to my heart your voice has been!

Guitar and sword,- at tourney, feast, and dance."

The reader will allow me to observe, in closing these brief notices, that, supported as well by my own feeling as by the judgment of Menzel, Coleridge, and, I may add, by the general voice of criticism, I view UNDINE not only as a work of art, but as something far superior, an exquisite creation of genius. If I have failed to do justice to her peculiar

traits, in thus introducing her to him in the costume of our language, it is not owing to want of admiration, or of studiously endeavouring to be faithful to my trust; and, aware of the difficulty of presenting her the 'vision of beauty' that Fouque 'found' her, he will forgive the fond impulse of my ambition. What welcome she may receive among us, it remains for the noble knights and lovely ladies of our country to show. She does not come as a stranger, - she has already been once greeted with favour; still, wide as may be her fame in the world of letters, she seems, as yet, to be more talked of in the world of common readers, than, if I may so speak, known in person. To ALL lovers of the imaginative, therefore, to every "simple, affectionate, and wonder-loving heart," her fortunes are again committed.

THIS translation of UNDINE was first published in 1839, as the third volume of the New York LIBRARY OF ROMANCE,' of which 'PHANTASMION formed the first and second. It was republished also, the same year, in the London STANDARD LIBRARY.' Encouraged by its favourable reception, and feeling that every thing of value, in a picture so closely allied to poetry as this, depends on skilfully disposing the colours of thought, the lights and shades of expression, I have since that edition again and again compared it with the German, and spared no pains to render it less unworthy of the welcome with which it has been honoured.

What I proposed to myself, as a general if not an invariable rule in translating and revising, was this, to adhere to the verbal import of the original, whenever a freer rendering did not give promise of more clearness, beauty, or force of expression, in English. Freedom and fidelity, indeed, have been my continual aim; but, notwithstanding the imperfections which I have from time to time detected and removed, when I perceive how faint a shadow my version is of the vivid original, I am able to make no higher boast than that of having tried to copy the author's fineness and subtlety of conception, as well as the ease and sim plicity of his execution. Still, however inadequate the translation may be, and however perfect a copy some more expert translator may produce, few or none will ever submit to a like process of revision and improvement to make it such; and though a labour of love,' as one of my reviewers has been pleased to call my work, — -a striving after accuracy of thought and expression, as if it were a case of conscience, labour, that I would fain hope I shall seldom find it necessary to repeat. THE VIAL-GENIE AND MAD FARTHING, entitled in the original "DAS GALGENMÄNNLEIN," I translate from Fouquè's "KLEINE ROMANE," or Little Romances. Its peculiar merit was suggested to me by a friend, (the late deeply lamented Dr. CHARLES FOLLEN,) most familiar with

-it is a

what he happily called "the interminable forest of German literature," and to him I am therefore indebted for the pleasant labour of translation.

To many minds, it is probable, the liveliness of the fiction, its rapid transitions of fortune, its natural developement of feeling, its air of earnest reality, the danger it impresses of tampering with evil, and the fine moral influence of its crowd of incidents, will be even more arresting than the greater delicacy, sweetness, and imaginative power of Undine. Vial-Genies and Mad Farthings, being more tangible to the general reader, are more formed to gratify the popular taste, than (if I may venture to use such a phrase) the spiritual picturesque of Nature, or the tender glimpses of the heart.

THE COLLIER-FAMILY, or RED-MANTLE AND THE MERCHANT, is a translation of Fouquè's "DIE KÖHLERFAMILIE," one of his New Tales or Minor Romances. He calls it a remarkable adventure' in the life of a German merchant. It is indeed as original in its conception as it is happy in its execution, blending, in a manner peculiarly the author's own, the fine touches of imagination with the homeliness of common life. Its moral is admirable, perhaps the only infallible charm for laying the evil spirit of the times.

Allusion being often made in this volume to the ALMADORA RAVIne, a scene of no visionary attributes, I thought the reader might be desirous, as well as the lady, of a more particular introduction. Such is one of the purposes of this little panorama. The picture is of the Flemish school, taken immediately from Nature, and without one touch of fiction in its composition. The first sketches or brief outlines of the pieces it illustrates, were made many years ago, (more than three times the number required by the nine-year dogma of Horace,) but they were finished at a later period. All who may have loved, in the morning of their creative power, to weave these webs of "elfine loom," will speak in their defence the kind word of Shakspeare's Theseus: "The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them." I know not whether they are worth preserving, but possibly they may find favour with some few readers of this class, such as, yet feeling within them somewhat of the freshness of youthful impulse, are not too wise to love the workings of Fancy, —

"the power

That first unsensualizes the dark mind,
Giving it new delights; and bids it swell
With wild activity."

ERRATA.- Page 33, line 33, read stopt, trembling.'-P. 121, 1. 21, read wild and extravagant.'-P. 122, 1. 22, read 'devils' doggerel.' P. 136, 1.—29, read variation.-P. 151, 1. 19, read then willingly.' -P. 168, 1. 28, read heart."—P. 171, 1. 19, read scouring.'-P. 196, 1. 35, read could.'-P. 255, l. 15, read 'communion's dream.' P. 255, 1. 27, read Goethe.' - P. 290, 1. 7, read this Goshen.' — P. 306, 1. 7, read I hope.'-P. 316, 1. 5, put a period after 'doglie.'-P. 316, 1. 24, read 'Spírar.' - P. 318, 1. 6, put a period after 'orgogliosa.'

6

These ERRATA, minute as they are, the reader will have the goodness to correct, with some few others of still slighter moment.

UNDIN E.

CHAPTER I.

HOW A KNIGHT CAME TO A FISHERMAN'S COTTAGE.

ONCE on a beautiful evening, it may now be many hundred years ago, there was a worthy old fisherman who sat before his door mending his nets.

Now the corner of the world where he dwelt, was exceedingly picturesque. The green turf on which he had built his cottage, ran far out into a great lake; and this slip of verdure appeared to stretch into it as much through love of its clear waters, blue and bright, as the lake, moved by a like impulse, strove to fold the meadow, with its waving grass and flowers, and the cooling shade of the trees, in its fond embrace. Such were the freshness and beauty of both, that they seemed to be drawn toward each other, and the one to be visiting the other as a guest.

With respect to human beings, indeed, in this pleasant spot, after excepting the fisherman and his family, there were few or rather none to be met with. For in the background of the scene, toward the west and northwest, lay a forest of extraordinary wildness, which, owing to its gloom and its being almost impassable, as well as to fear of the strange creatures and visionary forms to be encountered there, most people avoided entering, unless in cases of extreme necessity. The pious old fisherman, however, many times passed through it without harm, when he carried the fine fish, which he caught by his beautiful strip