"May not that be," said he, "because the race lived for centuries in forests? A language is always richest in its epithets for those things with which the people who speak it are most familiar. Look at the many terms for 'horse' and 'sword' in Arabic." "But the old Britons lived also in forests," I suggested. "I suspect," he answered, "while the English language was taking shape, the people knew quite as much of the sea as of the woods. You ought, therefore, to surpass us in describing coast and sea-scenery, winds and storms, and the motion of waves." The idea had not occurred to me before, but I found it to be correct. Though not speaking English, Rueckert had a thorough critical knowledge of the language, and a great admiration of its qualities. He admitted that its chances for becoming the dominant tongue of the world were greater than those of any other. Much that he said upon this subject interested me greatly at the time, but the substance of it has escaped me. When I left, that evening, I looked upon his cheerful, faithful wife for the last time. Five years elapsed before I visited Coburg again, and she died in the interval. In the summer of 1861 I had an hour's conversation with him, chiefly on American affairs, in which he expressed the keenest interest. He had read much, and had a very correct understanding of the nature of the struggle. He was buried in his studies, in a small house outside of the village, where he spent half of every day alone, and inaccessible to every one; but his youngest daughter ventured to summon him away from his books. Two years later (in June, 1863) I paid my last visit to Neuses. He had then passed his seventy-fifth birthday; his frame was still unbent, but the waves of gray hair on his shoulders were thinner, and his step showed the increasing feebleness of age. The fire of his eye was softened, not dimmed, and the long and happy life that lay behind him had given his face a peaceful, serene expression, prophetic of a gentle translation into the other life that was drawing near. So I shall always remember him,--scholar and poet, strong with the best strength of a man, yet trustful and accessible to joy as a child. Notwithstanding the great amount of Rueckert's contributions to literature during his life, he has left behind him a mass of poems and philological papers (the latter said to be of great interest and value) which his accomplished son, Professor Rueckert of the University of Breslau, is now preparing for publication. FOOTNOTES: [B] The reader may be curious to see how smoothly and naturally these dactyls (so forced in the translation) flow in the original:-- "Aus der staubigen Residenz, In den laubigen Frischen Lenz-- Aus dem tosenden Gassenschwall Zu dem kosenden Wasserfall,-- Wer sich rettete, Dank's dem Glueck, Wie mich bettete Mein Geschick!" PASSAGES FROM HAWTHORNE'S NOTE-BOOKS. VII.