exercise of fancy in its construction, is
only too faithful a picture of German student life and habits, with its
ignorance or disregard of the Christianity taught us in the Gospel, its
only half-concealed leaning towards the ancient systems of religion
properly known as heathen, and its careless indifference to human life.
The translator has ventured to deviate slightly from the original in one
or two places in order to avoid giving an unnecessary shock to the
susceptibilities of readers trained and educated in principles widely
differing from these.--_Transl_.

THE SCAPEGOAT.

Doesn't everybody at Tubingen know the lamentable history of the quarrel
between the Seigneur Kaspar Evig and the young Jew Elias Hirsch? Kaspar
Evig was courting Mademoiselle Eva Salomon, the daughter of the old
picture-dealer in the Rue de Jericho. One day he found my friend Elias
In the broker's shop, and, on what pretext I know not, he boxed his ears
soundly three or four times.

Elias Hirsch, who had begun his medical studies only about five months
before, was called upon by a council of the students to challenge the
Seigneur Kaspar to fight, a step which he took with the greatest
repugnance, for it was quite to be expected that a seigneur should be
a perfect swordsman.

For all that Elias put himself well on the defensive, and, watching his
opportunity, inserted his finely-pointed sword so neatly between the ribs
of the above-mentioned seigneur as considerably to affect his breathing,
the consequence of which was that he was dead in ten minutes.

The Rector Diemer, being informed of this transaction by credible
witnesses, listened coldly and remarked briefly--

"I understand you, gentlemen. He is dead, is he? Very well, then; bury
him."

Elias was carried about in triumph, like another Mattathias; but, far
from accepting the proffered glory, he drooped under a profound
melancholy.

He lost flesh, he sighed, he groaned; his nose, already a pretty long
one, seemed to gain in prominence what it lost in solidity, and often in
the evening, as he was passing down the Rue des Trois Fontaines, he might
be heard murmuring--

"Kaspar Evig, forgive me; I did not mean to take your life. Oh, unhappy
Eva! what have you done? By your thoughtless flirting you made two brave
men quarrel, and now the shade of the Seigneur Kaspar pursues me
everywhere, even in my sleep. Oh, Eva! wretched Eva! why did you behave
so?"

So poor Elias moan