A strange doctrine truly, and one to be condemned by those pragmatists who bid us test every doctrine by the touchstone question: “Will it work?” It found its condemnation in this case, when “Herr Wulfling” began to translate theory into practice. After running wild in woods for a season, he was persuaded by the jeers of a passer-by to visit a barber’s shop; and the sudden sight which he got of himself in the barber’s mirror—the spectacle of a hirsute savage suggesting a Wild Man from Borneo—decided him to return to civilisation by the shortest cut available. He ran to the nearest slop-shop, put himself into a reach-me-down check-suit, engaged rooms in a _pension_, and shortly afterwards divorced the wife who had lured him into his amazing courses, and sought another wife of a more commonplace kind. His second wife was a Swiss lady—Fräulein Ritter—and his union to her appears to have been more fortunate. He acquired the rights of citizenship in the Canton of Zug; and he presently obtained damages in a Swiss Court of Law against a journalist, who circulated the report that he had always lived, and was still living, a disorderly life, and had refused to pay his rates. The dispute about the rates was only a dispute about an assessment; and the tribunal endorsed counsel’s favourable estimate of Herr Wulfling’s personal worth. It is interesting to compare that estimate with the depreciatory paragraph quoted from the _Neue Freie Presse_; and we may borrow the report of the _Indépendance Belge_:— “In Austria” (we there read) “M. Leopold Wulfling was indifferent to the attractions of fashionable life, but enjoyed himself in middle-class society. He was understood to be one of the most cultivated members of the archducal house. He speaks and writes ten or a dozen languages correctly, and has a knowledge of mathematics and astronomy which would qualify him to occupy a professorial chair in any University in the world. He is also an experienced navigator of the seas. At Salzburg, where he lived for a long time, he became very popular. His superiors considered him too considerate to the soldiers serving under his orders. His relations with his father continued to be extremely cordial even after he had retired from the army. It is absolutely untrue to say that he has been compelled to abandon the profession of arms; but the resignation of his titles involved the resignation of his commission. Note that of all his Orders he has kept only the modest Cross of Merit bestowed upon the young Archduke by the Emperor himself for saving two men from drowning.” Decidedly the Archduke Leopold had the _beau rôle_ on that occasion. Not only did he leave the Swiss Court without a stain on his character, but his calumniator narrowly escaped imprisonment for defamation, and had to pay a heavy fine. It was at about this date that Signor Toselli made his acquaintance, and was inspired to the following pen portrait of the Archduke:—