avoured to introduce Jean Paul Richter to the
English public, it seems to us that he was more than usually
unsuccessful. The literary publics of the England and the Germany of
those days were very different, and perhaps the errors of taste, which
each professed to find in the other, were not in truth wholly upon the
side of John Bull. We feel, (with much deprecation of our own impudence
in challenging such a comparison,) in a somewhat similar position, and
dread in our more diffident moments a far colder reception and far
greater depth of oblivion for our present attempt to render into
English a good German story about STRONG DRINK. German humour is often
more rollicking than that of our own countrymen; it is also
occasionally more subtle. But it has always been a matter of some
wonder to us that Hauff's acknowledged masterpiece should be unknown to
English readers, and we have therefore made the following attempt;
praying the courteous reader only that he will not throw the story down
in disgust till he gets to the best part: of the location of which we
allow him to be the best judge.

Wilhelm Hauff was born on the 29th November, 1802, at Stuttgart, where
his father held various high posts, with various high-sounding double
and treble official names, under the paternal government of the Elector
Frederick, the first of his name and house who attained 'serenity.' It
was this same ruler who three years later, after refusing a passage to
Napoleon's troops for some time with great show of patriotism, allowed
himself to be 'convinced,' as soon as the Emperor himself appeared and
offered him a considerable extension of territory and a Royal Crown;
and who confessed with some _naivete_ 'that since Frederick the Great
he had never met any one so good at talking a man over as Napoleon;
that the latter had in fact the same "tournure de l'esprit" as
Frederick.' But His Serene Highness was, in common with many of his
contemporaries, in the habit of allowing himself to be talked over by
any one with a good strong army at his back. 'C'etait leur nature de
complaire aux plus forts.' Therefore he now openly joined, in 1805, as
he had practically done in '95 and '99, the row of princely traitors to
the cause of Germany, and began to dance with his fellows on the
fast-closing grave of the Holy Roman Empire. It must however be
remembered that his country was one of the few German principalities
that still possessed an active 'Landstaende'