productions of German genius. No particular system will be adhered to, except, that the aim will be to select such pieces as may delight by their narrative form, or by the elegance and beauty of their conception; and of which no translations have hitherto appeared, or the translations of which are notoriously meagre and unskilful. Our treasures are ample. They can fail in being attractive only by deficiency of judgment in collecting and arranging them, or by inability to preserve their original brilliancy.
THE GRATEFUL GHOST.
(By Musus.)
There lived formerly, in the town of Bremen, a very rich man, whose name was Melchior. His wealth was so great, that his large dining-hall was actually paved with hard dollars. Still his money went on increasing every year; and he looked forward to a long enjoyment of it. But he died suddenly one day, of apoplexy, in the midst of a sumptuous feast which he had given to celebrate the safe arrival of one of his most richly laden ships.
Melchior’s son Francis was the sole heir of his father’s immense fortune, and being of age, came into the uncontrolled possession of it. In the full vigour of health, with a handsome person, and an excellent heart, he was esteemed as one of the most amiable young men in his native place; while his vast wealth enabled him to indulge to its utmost, his noble desire of doing good. But, on the other hand, inexperience, and youthful passions, exposed him to all the dangers of seduction, and the more so, because his father, whose whole soul had been wrapped up in the accumulation of money, had bestowed very little care upon the judicious instruction of his son.
Francis was soon surrounded by a circle of flatterers and parasites, who called themselves his best friends, and endeavoured to keep him in one continued turmoil of pleasure. His house became the resort of all the roystering spirits of Bremen, who passed their days in riotous eating and drinking at his expense. No banquets given at the bishop’s palace, equalled the splendour and profusion of his; and so long as the town stands, it will never again witness such oxen feasts as he used to give yearly: when every citizen received from him a noble piece of roast-beef, and a small pitcher of Spanish wine. Business was left to the management of clerks and agents, with whom he interfered as little as he could help, the cashier being the only person he cared to see, because it was his province to find the money for his prodigality. The credit of his father had been too deeply fixed to admit of being easily destroyed; Francis, therefore, was enabled to go on for some years in this extravagant and thoughtless career; but when, in order to obtain ready money, he found himself compelled to remove, secretly, the silver flooring of the dining-hall, and replace it with one of stone, he began to think a little seriously of his situation. His numerous creditors, too, became suddenly clamorous, and as he was unable to satisfy their demands, a complete bankruptcy ensued. The paternal mansion, warehouses, gardens, lands, costly furniture, all were sold by the candle; and Francis hardly saved enough out of the wreck of his inheritance, to secure him from utter destitution for half a year.
And now, for the first time, his eyes were opened. He meditated seriously upon his past life, and his present situation: but alas! repentance came too late! His good friends, his revelling companions, all disappeared; while he had wholly neglected to cultivate the friendship of honourable and upright men. He was left consequently quite alone; abandoned to himself: with no one to consult or advise with, in his melancholy condition. It was insupportable to his proud feelings, to remain among those, who had known him on the pinnacle of wealth and greatness, in the character of a worthless spendthrift. He resolved, therefore, to quit his native town, and endeavour to gain, once more, fortune and respectability in some foreign country.
While he was meditating upon this resolve, and before he had definitively settled any plan in his own mind, it happened that his father’s account-books
