most expedient. But one thing you must promise us-for on that point we are resolute, and even determined to fight for it if necessary-that we shall be left without interference to rear up and fashion a State for ourselves, according to our own will and pleasure. I am willing to accept the enthusiasm which you manifested at Frankfort as equivalent to a vow that, at all events, you will take no active steps to hinder the Unity of Germany. More we do not require; but that is-you are reasonable enough to see it our good and holy right; and that, should we be driven to extremity, we are determined to obtain, even at the cost of a civil war! God grant that the land may not be afflicted by so grievous and terrible a calamity!

"If, as I hope and trust, you should refuse to appear against us as enemies, the Frankfort festival will not have been utterly in vain. For, my friends, we must needs confess that we are not prepared as yet to celebrate the festival of a people wholly and indissolubly united in the bond of brotherhood and concord. You have had ocular testimony of that. The bristling of weapons and the clang of steel were seen and heard in each pause of the banquet. We are not yet so fortunate as to be a united people. Not even for a few days can we conceal, under the festive mantle, the wounds which the separation and mutual jealousies of our races have inflicted upon the body of this mighty nation. Instead of cicatrising, they break out each morning afresh, like those of the fabled Prometheus. Did I not hear the question more than once repeated-Can these be Tyrolese-these fine-looking fellows, who seem so hearty and good-humoured can these be the men who in their native valleys almost unanimously protested against the Mühlfeld religious edict, which extended protection to the Protestants?""

"The German, who at present, next to the Pole, is the great Pariah of Europe, finds his position somewhat narrow and uneasy; but he has been taught thereby to make the best of circumstances. I do not entertain the smallest doubt but that we shall be able in the North to erect an empire which shall comprehend all the German states that have close affinity and common interest. But I dare hardly hope for more than the accession of Baden, Nassau, and, at the utmost, Northern Bavaria. We may possibly be so fortunate as to get Wurtemberg; there is less chance of Old Bavaria. German Austria will probably remain for a considerable period an exiled member of the family. We must endeavour to console ourselves under that calamity. Of course, when, sooner or later, German Austria gives her adhesion to the Northern Empire, we shall take care that she is provided with a becoming place.

"And then indeed shall we celebrate the occasion by an august national festival!"

We shall make no apology for the length of this extract, because it affords us a clear and intelligible view of the expectations formed by the movement party in Prussia, which, as we have already remarked, is essentially distinct from the party of the Frankfort agitators. The latter are democrats, bent indeed upon having German unity, but determined that all authority shall directly emanate from the people. They are opposed to hereditary rule. They would fain construct the future government on the American model; have a parliament sitting at Frankfort to legislate for the whole of Germany; and confide the executive power to a President popularly elected, who should be responsible for his ministry. So much we can discern through the haze of German politics. The Prussian unionists, on the other hand, are resolute for the exaltation of their own kingdom. Their monarch must be the future

Emperor. At his feet all the subsidiary crowns are to be laid. Prussia will absorb the minor states of Germany one by one, and last of all will graciously condescend to accept the homage of Austria !

Such and so distracted is the mind of Germany at the present time. There is still so much confusion of ideas, that we see no reason to expect any immediate change; and if France, as seems very probable, should find sufficient occupation elsewhere for a long time to come, Germany may reImain as she is. But there is on dangerous rock ahead, though the Germans fail to perceive it. If they are so unwise as to persist in their attempts upon SchleswigHolstein, of which there are even now certain ominous symptoms, it is probable that they will provoke the hostility of more powerful adversaries than the Danes. 'Rhenanus' declares that Prussia will go to war for the emancipation of Schleswig though half Europe were arrayed against her. That is mere gasconading-a form of speech, in which, we are sorry to remark, the Prussians are somewhat apt to indulge. Prussian statesmen are too wary to run their head against such a wall. At the same time, it is quite obvious that they are not disposed to offer direct opposition to any favourite German crotchet. They are, indeed, rather prone to err on the other side. In the hope of ultimately attaining to German supremacy, their aim is to conciliate the democrats a miserable line of policy, as it appears to us, and one which is not likely to lead to any creditable results. No good ever came of coquetting with impracticable demagogues. They are like wild beasts, sure at last to turn against the hand that is stretched out to caress them, and their bite is venomous and deadly.

There is, in fact, not much sympathy between the Prussians and the agitators on the Upper Rhine. The latter are grievously offended by the patronising airs which the

former are pleased to assume in their intercourse with other branches of the German family; the Prussian considering himself par excellence the man of polish and refinement, in advance of all the rest by at least a century of civilisation. Now, it is true that of late years Prussia has made considerable advances; but it is not true that she has advanced so far as to be greatly ahead of her neighbours. This supercilious demeanour makes the Prussians disliked by the other Germans, who are at no pains to conceal the real nature of their feelings. Londoners have sometimes been twitted with their proneness to estimate everything which they see abroad in reference to similar objects at home, always giving the preference to what is exclusively English. However faulty they may be in this respect, they are outdone by the men of Berlin, who invariably draw disparaging contrasts between the other cities of Germany and their own sandy capital on the Spree. To say that they are hated beyond their own territory would be too strong a term, but certainly they are not beloved; and therefore their political influence is not nearly so great as might be expected from the undeniable strength and advantageous position of Prussia. Besides, neither the reigning monarch nor the court party are in any way popular. The somewhat gratuitous assertion of the King that he holds his crown by Divine Right, and not by the will of the people, is so little in accordance with modern notions that it has given very general offence. The Prussian aristocracy, as a class, are disposed to be exclusive and overbearing, and have taken no pains to conciliate the burghers, who retort upon them for their poverty and their pride. Thus, even in Prussia, there is a lack of internal union, which certainly does not promise well for the successful result of schemes of national ambition; while the other Germans, who are working for a

revolutionary change, have no intention whatever that their labour should be expended for the aggrandisement and preponderance of a race which bears with them the character of being vain, selfish, and overbearing.

So slight is the attention bestowed in England upon German politics, and so imperfectly understood are the relations which exist between the separate states, styled in the aggregate the Germanic Confederation, that many of our readers will doubtless peruse with surprise the statements which are made in this article regarding the conflicting opinions which are now agitating Germany. Tourists, who in fine summer weather roll along the railways of the Rhine, and pass from city to city, either in the pursuit of pleasure or for the purpose of viewing the works of art which are there in such vast profusion, are naturally led to suppose, from the prosperous appearance of the country, that the people are contented and happy, and not at all anxious for a change. Even those who do not understand the language cannot fail to see that the burgher class throughout are thriving and comfortable in their circumstances; and those who can converse with them are sure to be impressed with a favourable opinion of their intelligence and real educational acquirements. For it is an undeniable fact that the middle classes of Germany -by which term we mean more especially the shopkeepers and tradesmen are, though not nearly so shrewd and practical as Englishmen of the same rank, possessed of more extensive information, and are more literary in their tastes than our countrymen. Whatever may have been the case in former years,

there is now no appearance of any restriction of the liberties of the subject. The Germans discourse and argue upon political topics with the utmost freedom, and without any apprehension of espionage or denouncement-a very favourable contrast to the state of matters in France, where, for anything you know to the contrary, the stranger who accosts you may be a mouchard in the pay of the police, and the waiter at your hotel a spy. That is not only apparent freedom-it is real and substantial. Of that the recent proceedings in Frankfort furnish a decisive proof; for the speakers were selected from almost every considerable state of Germany; and the last thought in the minds of any of them was that they could be made answerable for the opinions which they chose to utter.

Yet, while the surface appears so smooth and smiling, there is beneath it a deep current of discontent which will, one day or other, occasion a formidable convulsion. The tendency of the movement is towards the assemblage of a German Parliament, and the renewal of that experiment which proved such a disastrous failure in 1848. What course may be taken by the different governments in the event of such a contingency, it is quite impossible to predict. This much, however, is clear, that a very great deal depends upon the attitude which may be assumed by Prussia. She, more than any other German power, can retard or precipitate the movement; a single false step upon her part, instigated by either ambition or cowardice, might imperil the tranquillity of the whole of Europe; and vast, therefore, is the load of responsibility which rests upon her rulers.

VINCENT put out his hand to seize upon the strange woman who confronted him with a calmness much more confounding than any agitation. But her quick eye divined his purpose. She made the slightest movement aside, extended her own, and had shaken hands with him in his utter surprise before he knew what he was doing. The touch bewildered his faculties, but did not move him from the impulse, which was too real to yield to anything. He took the door from her hand, closed it, placed himself against it. "You are my prisoner," said Vincent. He could not say any more, but gazed at her with blank eyes of determination. He was no longer accessible to reason, pity, any sentiment but one. He had secured her. He forgot even to be amazed at her composure. She was his prisoner -that one fact was all he cared to know.

"I have been your prisoner the entire morning," said Mrs Hilyard, with an attempt at her old manner, which scarcely could have deceived the minister had he preserved his wits sufficiently to notice it, but at the same time betraying a little surprise, recognising instinctively that here she had come face to face with those blind forces of nature upon which no arguments can tell. "You were in much less doubt about your power of saving souls the last time I heard you, Mr Vincent. Sit down, please. It is not long since we met, but many things have happened. It is kind of you to give me so early an opportunity of talking them over. I am sorry to see you look excited—but after such exertions, it is natural, I suppose

"You are my prisoner," repeated Vincent, without taking any notice of what she said. He was no match for her in any passage of Her words fell upon his

arms.

ears without any meaning. Only a dull determination possessed him. He locked the door, while she, somewhat startled in her turn, stood looking on.; then he went to the window, threw it open, and called to some one below-any one

he did not care who. "Fetch a policeman-quick-lose no time, cried Vincent. Then he closed the window, turned round, and confronted her again. At last a little agitation was visible in this invulnerable woman. For an instant her head moved with a spasmodic thrill, and her countenance changed. She gave a rapid glance round as if to see whether any outlet was left. Vincent's eye followed hers.

"You cannot escape-you shall not escape," he said, slowly; "don't think it nothing you can do or say will help you now."

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"Ah!" said Mrs Hilyard, with a startled, panting breath. "You have come to the inexorable," she said after a moment; most men do, one time or another. You decline meeting us on our ground, and take to your own. Very well," she continued, seating herself by the table where she had already laid down one of the Salem hymnbooks; "till this arrival happens, we may have a little conversation, Mr Vincent. I was about to tell you something which ought to be good news. Though you don't appreciate my regard for you, I will tell it you all the same. What noise is that? Oh, the boys, I suppose, rushing off for your policeman. I hope you know what you are going to say to that functionary when he comes. In the mean time, wait a little you must hear my news."

The only answer Vincent made was to look out again from the window, under which a little group of gazers had already collected. His companion heard the sounds

below with a thrill of alarm more real than she had ever felt before. She sat rigidly, with her hand upon the hymn-book, preserving her composure by a wonderful effort, intensely alive and awake to everything, and calculating her chances with a certain desperation. This one thing alone of all that had happened, the Back Grove Street needlewoman, confident in her own powers and influence, had not fore

seen.

"Listen!" she cried, with an excitement and haste which she could not quite conceal. "That man is not dead, you know. Come here-shut the window! Young man, do you hear what I say to you? Am I likely to indulge in vain talk now? Come here-here! and understand what I have to say."

"It does not matter," said Vincent, closing the window. "What you say can make no difference. There is but one thing possible now."

"Yes, you are a man!" cried the desperate woman, clasping her hands tight, and struggling with herself to keep down all appearance of her anxiety. "You are deaf, blind! You have turned your back upon reason. That is what it always comes to. Hush! come here -closer; they make so much noise in the street. I believe," she said, with a dreadful smile, you are afraid of me. You think I will stab you, or something. Don't entertain such vulgar imaginations, Mr Vincent. I have told you be fore, you have fine manners though you are only a Dissenting minister. I have something to tell you-something you will be glad to know—”

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Here she made another pause for breath-merely for breath-not for any answer, for there was no answer in her companion's face. He was listening for the footsteps in the street-the steps of his returning messengers. And so was she, as she drew in that long breath, expanding her forlorn bosom with air, which the quick throbs of her heart so soon exhausted. She looked in his eyes with an eager fire in her

own, steadily, without once shifting her gaze. The two had changed places. It was he, in his inexorableness, close shut up against any appeal or argument, that was the superior now.

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When you hear what I have to say you will not be so calm," she went on, with another involuntary heave of her breast. "Listen! your sister is safe. Yes, you may start, but what I say is true. Don't go to the window yet. Stop, hear me! I tell you your sister is safe. Yes, it may be the people you have sent for. Never mind, this is more important. You have locked the door, and nobody can come in. I tell you again and again, your sister is safe. That man is not deadyou know he is not dead. And yesterday-hush! never mind!-yesterday," she said, rising up as Vincent moved, and detaining him with her hand upon his arm, which she clutched with desperate fingers, "he made a declaration that it was not she; a declaration before the magistrates," continued Mrs Hilyard, gasping as her strength failed her, and following him, holding his arm as he moved to the window, "that it was not she-not she do you understand me-not she! He swore to it. He said it was another, and not that girl. Do you hear me?" she cried, raising her voice, and shaking his arm wildly in the despair of the moment, but repeating her words with the clearness of desperation-" He said on his oath it was not she."

She had followed him to the window, not pleading for herself by a single word, but with her desperate hand upon his arm, her face pinched and pale to the lips, and a horrible anxiety gleaming in the eyes which she never removed from his face. The two stood together there for a moment in that silent encounter; he looking down at the group of people below, she watching his face with her eyes, clutching his arm with her hand, appealing to him with a speechless suspense and terror, which no words can describe. Her fate hung upon