close of his journey, and pauses there only where his attention is arrested by some striking novelty or original feature, to omit mention of which would be to leave a gap in the history he has undertaken to write. Germany is the native land and head-quarters of wood-cutters. We mean not hewers of wood for the furnace, but cunning carvers in smooth-grained beech and delicate deal; artists in timber, we may truly say, when we contemplate the graceful and beautiful objects for which we are indebted to the luxuriant forests and skilful knives of Baden and Bavaria. The Teutonic race also possess, in a very high degree, the mechanical genius, to be convinced of which we have but to look at the ingenious clocks, with their astronomical evolutions, moving figures, crowing cocks, and the like, so constantly met with in all parts of Germany, in Switzerland, and in Holland. This double aptitude brought about an early development of anatomical sculpture in Germany, applied, as usual, to various purposes, religious and civil, serious and recreative, wonderful images of saints, figures borne in municipal processions, and dramatic puppets. These latter are traced by M. Magnin as far back as the 12th century. Even in a manuscript of the 10th century he finds the word _Tocha_ or _Docha_ used in the sense of doll or puppet (_puppa_), and also in that of mime (_mima_, _mimula_). Somewhat later the word _Tokke-spil_ (puppet-show) occurs in the poems of the Minnesingers. One of these, Master Sigeher, when stigmatising the Pope’s abuse of his influence with the Electors of the Empire, writes— “Als der Tokken spilt der Welche mit Tutschen Vürsten.” “The Italian plays with the German princes as with puppets.”