with the dinner, where we had jam with our meat and vegetables, and thin soup and sour cabbages, none of which I could like at all.

After this we went to a coach-office, where he paid some money for me; and then into a yard, where a great unwieldy vehicle was standing, and horses were being harnessed to it. There the captain gave me a ticket, which he said secured my place all the way; a paper in a little case, which he told me was my passport; a purse with some money; and a bag of sweet biscuits. Then he put me into a comfortable corner inside the coach, and shaking my hand very kindly, bade me good-by, and went away.

Now I was more lonely than ever. It was getting evening; two or three other passengers took their places inside, but not one spoke a word of English; the hostlers and postboy shouted; the horses made a great clattering, and away we went. I soon fell asleep, waking only now and then to find that it was dark night, and that all my companions were asleep likewise. The next morning we got out at a dirty inn, in a dirty village, and had breakfast. Then we went on again for weary, weary miles, over a flat dull country with canals and windmills, and great herds of cattle, over and over again. So with the same routine we travelled for some days; when one morning we all had to shew our passports, and allow our boxes to be opened by a company of soldiers. I afterwards knew that we then passed the frontier, and went into Germany; but at the time I could not tell what it all meant, and discerned no difference in the strange language.

The scenery from that period became more beautiful, and for the first time I beheld mountains, vineyards, and waterfalls. But the perpetual travelling by night and day wearied me so much, that at last I scarcely heeded where we went. After passing through many towns and cities, we came one evening to a pretty town with churches and white buildings, at the foot of a steep acclivity; and here they made me understand that I was to alight, for I was at Schwartzenfelden.

was put down at a large hotel, my box was deposited by my side, the coach rolled away through the narrow streets, and I was left alone. Presently a waiter came out and spoke to me; but finding that I could not reply, he examined my boxes, and seeing my name and the subjoined address, smiled and nodded, and led me into the house. In the entrance-hall I found a man in a kind of livery, who took my box in one hand and me by the other, and so went out and along the streets. We stopped soon before a high wall, where there was a large wooden gate, or rather, two folding doors, with two enormous knockers. This was opened to us by a second man in the same livery, and I found myself in a square courtyard, leading to a large white mansion. I was shewn into a spacious parlour, where an elderly lady and eight young girls were sitting at needle-work. The lady rose and took my hand between both of hers. 'And so you are our little new friend, Alice Hoffmann, my dear?' she said in good English,

No. 67.

though with a foreign accent: 'welcome to your new home. Try to like it and be happy, and we shall all love you.' And then the lady kissed me on both cheeks, and led me up stairs to a room like a long gallery, with a row of ten little bedsteads, with clean white draperies and coverlids. Here, she said, the eight young girls whom I had seen slept at night; and my bed was the last one next the window. She then helped me to change my dusty travellingclothes, and took me back to the sitting-room, where we supped.

When the meal was over, the youngest of the party read prayers aloud in German, and the lady handed me a book: There is an English psalm-book for you, my child,' she said kindly, and I blushed and trembled, for I could not read, and I was ashamed to say so. I saw her glance keenly at me, and then at the book, and I felt that she had guessed my secret, but she said nothing. When we rose from our knees, she kissed us all upon both cheeks, and we went to bed. There was only one in the room who could speak a little English, and this young girl occupied the bed next to mine. She told me that the eldest scholars slept in this dormitory, but that I was placed with them because I was a foreigner, as it was feared that I might be teased by others of my own age, who could not understand a word of my language. She told me, also, that the academy held twenty boys and twenty girls; that pupils came from the most distant parts of Germany, so high was the musical reputation of the school; that our matron's name-the lady whom I had seen-was Madame Kloss; that we lived in the dominions of the Grand Duke Leopold of Schwartzenfelden; and-and-a great deal more, but I fell asleep.

IV.

It would be superfluous to dwell very minutely on those years of education, school pleasures, and school griefs, that, like a bridge, unite child-life to womanhood. The sketch of a day, of a week, would suffice for the picture of years. Time passed gently on; and amid the same round of occupations, the same friends, the same teachers, and, with few exceptions, the same schoolfellows, I grew in age and knowledge till the lapse of ten happy years found me in the first bloom of youth, hope, and ambition. My voice, from the first, had been highly esteemed by Herr Schnieder, our singingmaster. Ten years of skilful tuition had developed it into a soprano of such sweetness, flexibility, and compass as, it was said, had never before been heard within the walls of the academy.

Nor, though the education afforded by the academy was expressly musical, were the more plain and not less necessary branches of knowledge neglected. French, English, and Italian were taught in the best manner; together with writing, arithmetic, and geography. On Sundays, we all went hand in hand, and two by two, to the neighbouring church, and with our youthful voices

swelled the solemn hymns and sweet responses. In the evening, we read aloud by turns from the Bible, or perhaps some pious discourse translated from Isaac Milner, and sometimes a few pages from Klopstock's Messiah. On Wednesdays, we had a half-holiday, when we made little excursions to the forest or the river-side; and at night we had cream-cake for supper.

Such was the school when I entered it-a lonely, ignorant, fatherless child, sent out by the bounty of strangers. Such was it at the time when I resume my narrative, when I was perhaps seventeen or eighteen years of age. I had heard at long intervals during this period from my kind friend and patron, Mr Grimaldi, and always with the same unwearied kindness and paternal solicitude. His letters, coming seldom, told of many changes-of domestic sorrow, of sickness, of a checkered and a fatiguing life. At last they ceased altogether; and after a time I heard that he was dead. I grieved much for him, and often. To this day, I think of him with love and gratitude. So ended all my connection, for life, with the country of my birth.

Herr Stolberg was the first musician of our quarter of Germany. He held the appointment of chapel-master to the Grand Duke, examined the classes of the academy in harmony every month, and we were all in great awe of his celebrity, his red ribbon, his quick black eyes, his harsh voice, and his impatient temper. His compositions were singularly affecting; as a contrapuntist, he was, perhaps, not excelled even by the greatest masters; he had studied under Beethoven, won the golden medal at the Strasbourg Festival, and had lately produced an oratorio on the anniversary of the Grand Duke's wedding-day.

I was sitting one morning in the class with some of my elder schoolfellows, when the door opened suddenly, and Herr Stolberg walked in, accompanied by Madame Kloss. He laid his hat on a table, and drew a paper from his pocket. Ladies,' he said in his quick, decisive tone, 'I have the honour to inform you that, in consequence of the departure of Mademoiselle Uhden for Berlin, there will shortly be a vacancy for a first soprano in the choir of the Chapel Royal. It is the gracious pleasure of His Highness the Grand Duke to select a lady from this academy to fill the situation; and I am therefore directed to announce to you, that as many as desire to compete will be heard on this day week in the music-room of the institution. A selection from the Messiah of Handel and the Creation of Haydn has been appointed for each candidate to sing; and His Highness will attend in person at your performance-and Herr Stolberg laid the list of music on the desk of Madame Kloss, bowed once more all around, and left the room as abruptly as he had entered it.

I need not say what an excitement raged among the soprani of the Schwartzenfelden Academy Royal of Music, during the week that succeeded this announcement. Many of the girls said that it was useless to compete with me, since I had the finest voice there.

But they practised, nevertheless; and nothing was heard from morning till night but the selections from Haydn and Handel. For my part, I scarcely sang a note. I felt that rest and thought would aid me better in that moment, which I knew was the most eventful of my life.

The week passed by, and the day of trial came. In the morning, I went out and wandered by myself in the pathways of the wood that lay beyond the town. Here all was so still-so holy. Confidence and peace passed suddenly into my breast. I wept. I could have sung then, and sung as I had for days but faintly pictured to myself. But I would not break the enchanted silence of the place. I hastened back to the academy, and remained in the library alone till I was summoned to dress for the evening. There were five competitors besides myself. Three sang very well, and the other two indifferently. The best was a young girl named Rebecca Leo. Her father was a Jewish merchant and money-lender in the town, and was reported to be wealthy. Rebecca was not so happy in the school as most of us, for I regret to say that many of the pupils avoided the Jewess, whose father they called Der Wucherer. We had often done each other little kindnesses. She was lonely. I pitied her, and she was grateful for my attention.

At six o'clock we were in the music hall. Herr Stolberg sat at the piano; the students occupied benches at the extremity of the room; Madame Kloss and the teachers were ranged along one side of the platform, and we, the performers, at the other. At a quarter past six the Grand Duke entered with his suite-the list of our names was placed before him, and we began. My name was the fourth in succession, so I had some little time to wait. The first candidate began-I strove in vain to recall the feelings of the morning I felt my breath flutter and my whole frame trembling. I tried to read the words, in the vain effort to abstract my thoughts to their exalted sense. Alas! the letters swam before my eyes, and it was with difficulty I could restrain my tears. A gentle hand was laid upon my arm: 'It is your turn, Alice,' said Rebecca.

I rose and crossed to the piano-the Grand Duke looked up and scrutinised me attentively-I thought I should have fallen, and laid my hand upon the instrument for support; a hand was laid upon it and instantly withdrawn. I turned involuntarily, and saw Herr Stolberg gazing at me with an unwonted cordiality in his dark eyes. He pretended to be arranging some music near where my hand was laid.

Fear nothing, Fräulein Alice,' he muttered in a low voice; 'you alone are capable of the part.'

This strange encouragement from the formidable maestro almost took away my breath with surprise; in a moment he had commenced the symphony, and I began. I was so terrified that I know not how I sang the opening bars; indeed, I have no

recollection of singing them at all. I was in a whirlwind-concertroom, Grand Duke, music, all vanished from before my eyes. After a few moments, I seemed to hear the silver notes of my own voice rising above the accompaniment, like a bird from the forest-as if it were some other person, and I were listening to them. Gradually this sensation left me; I fancied myself once more in the still wood, the sense and majesty of the words seemed again unfolded to me, and the full tide of deep religious enthusiasm rushed over my soul, and poured itself forth in the superhuman gladness of that inspired song in which the people of Zion are bidden to 'rejoice greatly!'

When I had concluded, and resumed my seat, my heart was beating, it is true, but no longer with apprehension. The other five looked from me to one another, the eyes of Madame Kloss were full of tears, and a burst of half-uttered bravos proceeded from the end of the hall where the male students were seated.

'Was I not right, Fräulein Alice?' said Herr Stolberg, as he came over to me, after speaking for a moment with the Grand Duke. Take my arm, that I may introduce you to his Highness. He says it is unnecessary for the two other candidates to sing, for he has selected you.'

V.

With the appointment of first soprano to the Chapel Royal, I also received that of sub-professor of singing to the academy, and was next in authority to my former master, Herr Schnieder. I was, consequently, removed from the pupils' dormitory, and allowed a separate bed-chamber with a sitting-room attached. In the latter, a small piano was placed for my accommodation, and that of any private pupils whom I might obtain, and whom I was henceforth permitted, by the laws of the academy, to instruct. I had five or six before three weeks had elapsed. This unusual good-fortune was the result of my chapel situation; for, on the departure of Mademoiselle Uhden, three families, where she had been a teacher of singing, had instantly transferred their patronage to me, as her

successor.

Life was now all happiness, and fate seemed smiling upon me. His Highness repeatedly honoured me with his approbation, and the Grand Duchess frequently sent for me when the evening-service was concluded, to sing her favourite morceaux from the oratorios of Handel, and the masses of Mozart. They were a most unassuming and domestic couple-dignified, it is true, but glad to lay aside the ceremonies of royalty, and in private, to place everybody around them at ease, and even ready themselves to take a part in a glee or a motett. At last, it became the rule for me to attend in the drawing-room every Sunday evening; and as Herr Stolberg was likewise invited, we went together. Thus we came to be-I had almost said friends, but that is not