me close this general description of the natural phenomena of the
universe. From the remotest nebulae and from the revolving double
stars, we have descended to the minutest organisms of animal creation,
whether manifested in the depths of ocean or on the surface of our
globe, and to the delicate vegetable germs which clothe the naked
declivity of the ice-crowned mountain summit; and here we have been
able to arrange these phenomena according to partially known laws; but
other laws of a more mysterious nature rule the higher spheres of the
organic world in which is comprized the human species in all its
varied conformation, its creative intellectual power, and the
languages to which it has given existence. A physical delineation of
nature terminates at the point where the sphere of intellect begins,
and a new world of mind is open to our view. It marks the limit, but
does not pass it.

HEINRICH HEINE

Born in Prussia in 1799, died in Paris in 1856; of Hebrew
descent; with assistance from an uncle, studied
jurisprudence at Bonn, Berlin, and Gottingen; embraced
Christianity in 1825; lived alternately in Hamburg, Berlin
and Munich; settled in Paris after 1831, where he spent his
remaining years; receiving, 1837-48, an annuity from the
department of foreign affairs; his first collection of poems
published in 1822; his most notable prose work, "Pictures of
Travel," in 1826-31; his complete works comprize twenty-one
volumes.

REMINISCENCES OF NAPOLEON[23]

The professor was dancing about the platform with the agility of an
elephant and working himself into a passion for a set tirade against
the Emperor Napoleon, when those accurst feet of mine--no, poor feet,
I can not blame you for drumming then, nay, I could not have blamed
you had your dumb instinct thus outraged exprest itself in a yet more
forcible fashion. How can I, a pupil of Le Grand, hear the Emperor
abused? The Emperor! the great Emperor!

[Footnote 23: From Chapter VII, VIII and IX, of "Travel-Pictures."
Translated by Francis Storr.]

When I think of the great Emperor, in my mind's eye it is summer
again, all gold and green. A long avenue of lime-trees in blossom
rises up before me; on the leafy branches sit nightingales singing;
the waterfall ripples; in the borders are flowers dreamily waving
their fair heads.

Between me and the flowers there was a strange communion; the painted
tulips b