treats only of one part of that august subject; which,
leaving to a loftier genius the history of the true religion, may
be considered as the history of a false one,--of such a creed as
Christianity supplanted in the North; or such as may perhaps be found
among the fiercest of the savage tribes. It is a fiction--as you may
conceive; but yet, by a constant reference to the early records of human
learning, I have studied to weave it up from truths. If you would like
to hear it,--it is very short--"

"Above all things," said Vane; and the German drew a manuscript neatly
bound from his pocket.

"After having myself criticised so insolently the faults of our national
literature," said he, smiling, "you will have a right to criticise the
faults that belong to so humble a disciple of it; but you will see that,
though I have commenced with the allegorical or the supernatural, I
have endeavoured to avoid the subtlety of conceit, and the obscurity of
design, which I blame in the wilder of our authors. As to the style, I
wished to suit it to the subject; it ought to be, unless I err, rugged
and massive,--hewn, as it were, out of the rock of primeval language.
But you, madam--doubtless you do not understand German?"

"Her mother was an Austrian," said Vane; "and she knows at least enough
of the tongue to understand you; so pray begin."

Without further preface, the German then commenced the story, which the
reader will find translated* in the next chapter.

* Nevertheless I beg to state seriously, that the German student
is an impostor; and that he has no right to wrest the parentage
of the fiction from the true author.

CHAPTER XIX. THE FALLEN STAR; OR THE HISTORY OF A FALSE RELIGION.

AND the STARS sat, each on his ruby throne, and watched with sleepless
eyes upon the world. It was the night ushering in the new year, a night
on which every star receives from the archangel that then visits the
universal galaxy its peculiar charge. The destinies of men and empires
are then portioned forth for the coming year, and, unconsciously to
ourselves, our fates become minioned to the stars. A hushed and solemn
night is that in which the dark gates of time open to receive the ghost
of the Dead Year, and the young and radiant Stranger rushes forth from
the clouded chasms of Eternity. On that night, it is said that there are
given to the spirits that we see not a privilege and a power; the dead
are troubled in their forgott