The distinguished personage, whose adventures form the subject of this book, does not figure in it under his own name, nor does he appear here in the gala attire of tail, horns and cloven foot with which he graces the revels on the Blocksberg. He borrows for the nonce a tall, gentlemanly figure, surmounted by delicate features, dresses well, is fastidious about his ring and linen, travels post and stops at the best hotels. He begins his earthly career by studying at the renowned university of ----. As he can boast of abundant means, a handsome wardrobe and the name of Herr von Barbe, it is no wonder that on the first evening he should be politely received, the next morning have a confidential friend, and the second evening embrace “brothers till death.” He becomes much puzzled at the extraordinary manners of the students, and at their language, so different from that of every rational German. He remarks: “Over a glass of beer they often fell into singularly transcendental investigations, of which I understood little or nothing. However, I observed the principal words, and when drawn into a conversation, replied with a grave air--‘Freedom, Fatherland, Nationality.’” He attends the lectures of a celebrated professor, whose profundity of thought and terseness of style are so astounding, that the German world set him down as possessed; the critical student, however, differs somewhat from that conclusion, observing-- “I have borne a great deal in the world. I have even entered into swine,” (“The devil,” said Luther, “knows Scripture well and he uses it in argument”) “but into such a philosopher? No, indeed! I had rather be excused.” The episode here reprinted occurred in a hotel in Frankfort, where our incognito is known as Herr von Natas (which, it will be noticed, is his more familiar name read backwards). His brilliant powers of conversation, his adroit flattery, courteous gallantry, and elegant, though wayward flights of imagination, soon rendered him the delight of the whole _table d’hôte_. All guests, including our author, were fascinated by the mysterious stranger. But we will let the author himself tell his story. ST. JOHN’S EVE BY NIKOLÁI VASILÉVICH GÓGOL This story, taken from _Evenings on a Farm near Dikanka_, a series of sketches of the life of the Ukrainian peasants, offers a good illustration of the author’s art, which was a combination of the romantic and realistic elements. In these pages Gógol wished to record the myths and legends still current among the plain folk of his beloved Ukrainia. The devil naturally enough peeps out here and there through the pages of this book. Gógol’s devil is a product of the Russian soil, “the spirit of mischief and cunning, whom Russian literature is always trying to outplay and overcome” (Mme. Jarintzow, _Russian Poets and Poems_).