under penalty of a a fine of five thalers, ride through the avenue, the Emperor with his cortège came directly down the avenue. The trembling trees bowed toward him as he advanced, the sun's rays, timidly yet curiously, quivered through the green leaves, and in the blue sky above there seemed to glitter a golden star. The Emperor wore his unpretending geen uniform and the world-renowned little hat. He rode a white palfrey that stepped with conscious pride. The Emperor sat carelessly, almost lazily, holding in one hand the rein, and with the other goodnaturedly patting the neck of the horse; it was a tawny, marble hand, a mighty hand, one of the pair which bound fast the many-headed monster of anarchy, and reduced to order the discord of nations. Even the face had that hue which we find in the marble busts of the Greeks and Romans. The features were as nobly proportioned as in the antiques, and on his countenance was plainly written Thou shalt have no Gods before me!' A smile which warmed and won

every heart, flitted over the lips; and yet all knew that those lips needed but to whistle, et la Prusse n'existait plus; those lips needed but to move, and the

entire clergy would have ceased their ringing and singing; those lips needed but to move, and the entire holy Roman realm would have danced. And yet those lips smiled, and the eyes smiled also. His eye was as clear as heaven; it could read the hearts of men; it saw the things of this world at a glance as it were, while we ordinary mortals see them only one by one, and dimly even then. The brow was not so clear; the visions of future battles were gathering there, and at times a quiver would sweep across it— indicative of the creative thoughts, the great seven-mile-boot thoughts, wherewith the spirit of the Emperor strode invisibly over the world, and I believe that every one of those thoughts would have given to a German author full material to write upon all the days of his life.

"The Emperor rode quietly through the avenue; no policeman dared prevent him. Behind him, proudly, upon snorting horses, resplendent with gold and jewels, rode his suite; the drums were beating, the trumpets were sounding. . . . and the people cried with loud acclamations : 'Long live the Emperor!'"

But Heine was not by any means an uncon

D

ditional admirer of Napoleon; he was only en.thusiastic with regard to his great genius, without approving of all his actions and plans. Thus in his "Reisebilder," in in that part of the book where he describes his journey from Munich to Genoa (chapter XXIX), he writes as follows: "I pray, dear reader, do not mistake me for an unconditional Bonapartist; my adoration is not for the deeds, but for the genius of the man, may this man man be called Alexander, Cæsar, or Napoleon. I loved him boundlessly up to the eighteenth Brumaire, when he betrayed freedom. Dear reader, let us understand each other once for all. I never praise the deed, but the soul of a man, of which the deed is only a garment; history in fact is nothing more than the old wardrobe of the soul of humanity. But a loving heart feels sometimes attached to an old garment, and I love the cloak of Marengo."

The words, "up to the eighteenth Brumaire" might give to the reader the idea that Heine was a Republican at heart. And so he was; only in a very ideal manner, however, for although he always defended Republican insti

tutions in theory, he was never satisfied with their practical operation; and although in his writings he often appears to be a champion for the liberty of the people, he was in practice essentially an aristocrat, and certainly appreciated what Horace expresses in the words, "Odi profanum vulgus et

arceo."

That Heine disliked actual contact with the so-called "Republicans," the reader may infer from the circumstances which brought about a rupture between the poet and the well-known German politician Boerne, with whom Heine, during the first period of his sojourn in Paris-where in 1831 he went as an exile - had been intimately associated.

For a long time they were accustomed to dine together in a restaurant, which was the resort of German artisans who had been obliged to leave their native country for political reasons. In this restaurant addresses were manufactured almost every day, in which some ultra-Radicals declared their wish to dethrone one or the other of the German monarchs, and the guests present were requested to put their signatures to them. Heine, although liberal in the best sense of the word,

and a courageous enemy of tyrants, was disgusted with this ridiculous system of political agitation; and he was very much annoyed that persons, who were unsympathetic to him on account of their coarseness, and who were mere agitators and no patriots, should ask him for his signature to documents in which he had not the slightest interest. For the sake of Boerne, who signed, as it seems, every revolutionary document that was presented to him, Heine yielded for some time to the wishes of his democratic countrymen; but at last he lost patience, and one day, when they asked him to sign a list of resolutions, violently attacking the politics of the Pope in regard to the Romagna, he cynically asked of what consequence the Pope was to him, turned his back on his enraged compatriots, and disappeared. By and by he held himself aloof from all political agitators, and the latter began to declare the poet an apostate and a traitor to liberty.

The short-sighted crowd were not able to appreciate the real feelings of the man, who, although he disliked Republican rudeness, did more to propagate liberal sentiments, and to secure.