Unluckily, Ludwig Spengler, the garde champêtre’s son, whose sweetheart he had kissed, arrived almost as soon as he, and pushed his stick between the wall and the door, and the whole of them rushed into the stable. Coucou Peter, yelling like the deuce, and calling out—“Friends!—my dear friends—it was all a joke—nothing but a joke!” was soundly thrashed. They dragged him out, and blows with sticks were showered on him like hail. “Sweet as cherries!” shouted one. “Crisp as filberts!” yelled another. “I laugh at it!—I like it!” cried Ludwig Spengler, striking with the full swing of his arm. Mathéus, who was a witness of the whole affair, called from the window— “Courage, courage, Coucou Peter! accept this anthropo-zoological trial with philosophical resignation; even thank these young men for labouring towards your moral perfection! For a long time I have remarked that you belong to the family of bullfinches, a voluptuous race, feeding on the buds of flowers, and the most delicate fruits. After a few such lessons as this, I hope to see you renounce these sensual principles.” Poor Coucou Peter writhed, and looked pitifully at his master, as much as to say: “I wish you had been in my place, with your anthropo-zoological principles.” The Doctor’s short address, however, produced a happy diversion in Coucou Peter’s favour; the honest countrymen, struck by the august physiognomy and gestures of the illustrious philosopher, assembled under the window, and the fiddler took advantage of this moment to make his escape, and shut himself securely into the stable. Half the village were collected under the Doctor’s eyes; they formed a circle, and looked at him over each other’s heads and shoulders, all being anxious to hear him. Imagine the good man’s enthusiasm; he would have liked to embrace them all; he could not contain his delight. “Frantz,” he said to himself, “the hour for your preaching is come; it is clear that the Being of Beings, the Great Demiourgos, has brought together this numerous auditory for the purpose of their being converted by you. You would be blind not to see in this the finger of Providence!” Such was his emotion, that for some seconds he was unable to articulate a word; he blew his nose, he opened his mouth; so great a number of arguments presented themselves to his mind, that he knew not where to commence: he wanted to say everything at once. But at length his soul became calm, and, in a ringing voice, he cried— “O, noble inhabitants of Oberbronn, privileged beings of nature, humble and worthy country-people, you know not how deeply I am touched as I look upon you; you know not the glory that awaits you, the treasures which I bring to you!”