me.'

"The emperor reflected for a moment.

"'The advice is good,' said he at last. 'Henceforward you shall no
longer be called the headsman, but the last of the judges.' Then,
giving him three blows on the shoulder with his sword flat,

"'Rise!' he continued; 'from this hour you are the lowest among
nobles, and the first amongst burghers.'

"And accordingly since that day, in all public processions and
ceremonies, the executioner walks by himself, in rear of the nobles
and in front of the commoners."

Truly a most fantastical history, and one which leaves us in some doubt
whether it be a genuine legend of Heidelberg, or one of M. Dumas's
dreams in the diligence after dining upon pig and cherry sauce. At any
rate, if not true it is _ben trovato_.

Heidelberg, whither M. Dumas next proceeds, is to our mind one of the
pleasantest places near the Rhine, from which river it is now, thanks to
the railroad, within half an hour's journey. The country around is
delightful, and the town itself, owing to its possessing an university,
and to the vast number of strangers who visit and pass through it during
the summer months, is far more lively than most small German towns. The
kind of liveliness, however, caused by the presence of seven or eight
hundred students, is not always of the most agreeable character. It has
been the fashion in England to talk and write a vast deal about German
universities; and sundry well filled, or at least bulky tomes have been
devoted to accounts of the students' mode of life, their duels and
drinkings, and peculiarities of all kinds. Friend Howitt favoured us a
year or two ago with a corpulent volume--translated in part from the
MSS. of some _studiosus emeritus_--a sort of life in Heidelberg,
entering into great detail concerning university doings, and with
illustrations of a very sportive description; wherein mustached and
bespurred cavaliers are slashing at each other with broad swords, or
cantering over the country mounted upon gallant steeds, and looking
something between Dick Turpins and field-marshals in muftee. 'Tis a sad
thing to have too much imagination--it tempts a man to mislead his
neighbours; and no one who has read friend William's picturesque
descriptions of _Student Leben_, but would feel grievously disappointed
when he came to investigate the subject for himself. Nothing can be more
puerile and absurd, and in many instances disgusting, than