ound one's Hero
is a darkness, a dormant vacancy. How strange when, as here, some
Waste-paper spill (so to speak) turns up, which you can KINDLE; and, by
the brief flame of it, bid a reader look with his own eyes!--From
Herr Doctor Busching, who did the GEOGRAPHY and about a Hundred other
Books,--a man of great worth, almost of genius, could he have elaborated
his Hundred Books into Ten (or distilled, into flasks of aqua-vitae,
what otherwise lies tumbling as tanks of mash and wort, now run very
sour and mal-odorous);--it is from Herr Busching that we gain the
following rough Piece, illuminative if one can kindle it:--

The Titular-Herr Baron Anton von Geusau, a gentleman of good parts,
scholastic by profession, and of Protestant creed, was accompanying as
Travelling Tutor, in those years, a young Graf von Reuss. Graf von Beuss
is one of those indistinct Counts Reuss, who always call themselves
"Henry;" and, being now at the eightieth and farther, with uncountable
collateral Henrys intertwisted, are become in effect anonymous, or of
nomenclature inscrutable to mankind. Nor is the young one otherwise of
the least interest to us;--except that Herr Anton, the Travelling Tutor,
punctually kept a Journal of everything. Which Journal, long afterwards,
came into the hands of Busching, also a punctual man; and was by him
abridged, and set forth in print in his _Beitrage._ Offering at present
a singular daguerrotype glimpse of the then actual world, wherever Graf
von Reuss and his Geusau happened to be. Nine-tenths of it, even in
Busching's Abridgment, are now fallen useless and wearisome; but to
one studying the days that then were, even the effete commonplace of it
occasionally becomes alive again. And how interesting to catch, here and
there, a Historical Figure on these conditions; Historical Figure's very
self, in his work-day attitude; eating his victuals; writing, receiving
letters, talking to his fellow-creatures; unaware that Posterity,
miraculously through some chink of the Travelling Tutor's producing, has
got its eye upon him.

"SUNDAY, 1st JANUARY, 1741, Geusau and his young Gentleman leave Paris,
at 5 in the morning, and drive out to Versailles; intending to see the
ceremonies of New-year's day there. Very wet weather it had been, all
Wednesday, and for days before; [See in _Barbier_ (ii. 283 et seqq.)
what terrible Noah-like weather it had been; big houses, long in soak,
tumbling down at last into the Seine; CHAS