s, it is not worse than botany, and about as profitable.

For the same reason that I have given above, I spare my reader all
the circumstances of my journey, my difficulties about carriage, my
embarrassments about steamboats and cab fares, which were all of the
order that Brown and Jones have experienced, are experiencing, and will
continue to experience, till the arrival of that millenary period when
we shall all converse in any tongue we please.

It was at nightfall that I drove into Kalbbratonstadt, my postilion
announcing my advent at the gates, and all the way to the Platz where
the inn stood, by a volley of whip-crackings which might have announced
a Grand-Duke or a prima donna. Some casements were hastily opened, as
we rumbled along, and the guests of a _cafe_ issued hurriedly into
the street to watch us; but these demonstrations over, I gained the
"Schwein" without further notice, and descended.

Herr Krainm looked suspiciously at the small amount of luggage of the
traveller who arrived by "extra post," but, like an honest German, he
was not one to form rash judgments, and so he showed me to a comfortable
apartment, and took my orders for supper in all respectfulness.
He waited upon me also at my meal, and gave me opportunity for
conversation. While I ate my Carbonade mit Kartoffel-Salad, therefore, I
learned that, being already nine o'clock, it was far too late an hour
to present myself at the English Embassy,--for so he designated our
minister's residence; that, at this advanced period of the night there
were but few citizens out of their beds: the Ducal candle was always
extinguished at half-past eight, and only roisterers and revellers kept
it up much later. My first surprise over, I owned I liked all this.
It smacked of that simple patriarchal existence I had so long yearned
after. Let the learned explain it, but there is, I assert, something in
the early hours of a people that guarantee habits of simplicity, thrift,
and order. It is all very well to say that people can be as wicked at
eight in the evening as at two or three in the morning; that crime cares
little for the clock, nor does vice respect the chronometer; but does
experience confirm this, and are not the small hours notorious for the
smallest moralities? The Grand-Duke, who is fast asleep at nine, is
scarcely disturbed by dreams of cruelties to his people. The police
minister, who takes his bedroom candle at the same hour, is seldom
harassed b