people; hesitating, these, between eloquence and rival eloquence,
cunning and rival cunning. Why, in such a case, the shadow-nimbus of
Force is needed to decide the sinking of the scale. But have these
English never read their Shakespeare, that they show so barren an
acquaintance with human, to say nothing of semi-barbaric, nature? But
it is here that we Germans prove our claim to being the sons of his
mind.--Dr. Gannius, in contempt, throws off the mask: he also is a
concurrent. And not only is he the chosen by election of the chief
Universities of his land, he has behind him, as Athene dilating
Achilles, the clenched fist of the Prince of thunder and lightning of
his time. German, Japan shall be! he publicly swears before them all.
M. Falarique damascenes his sharpest smile; M. Bobinikine double-dimples
his puddingest; M. Mytharete rolls a forefinger over his beak; Dr.
Bouthoin enlarges his eye on a sunny mote. And such is the masterful
effect of a frank diplomacy, that when one party shows his hand, the
others find the reverse of concealment in hiding their own.

Dr. Bouthoin and Mr. Semhians are compelled to suspect themselves to be
encompassed with rivals, presumptively supported by their Governments.
The worthy gentlemen had hoped to tumble into good fortune, as in the
blessed old English manner. 'It has even been thus with us: unhelped we
do it!' exclaims the Rev. Doctor. He is roused from dejection by hearing
Mr. Semhians shyly (he has published verse) tell of the fairtressed
Delphica's phosphorial enthusiasm for our galaxy of British Poets.
Assisted by Mr. Semhians, he begins to imagine, that he has, in the
person of this artless devotee an ally, who will, through her worship
of our poets (by treachery to her sire-a small matter) sacrifice her
guttural tongue, by enabling him (through the exercise of her arts,
charms, intrigues--also a small matter) to obtain the first audience
of the Japanese erudites. Delphica, with each of the rivals in turn,
is very pretty Comedy. She is aware that M. Falarique is her most
redoubtable adversary, by the time that the vast fleet of steamboats
(containing newspaper reporters) is beheld from the decks of the
Polypheme puffing past Sandy Hook.

There Colney left them, for the next instalment of the serial.

Nesta glanced at Dudley Sowerby. She liked him for his pained frown at
the part his countrymen were made to play, but did wish that he would
keep from expressing it in a co