have never been able to find a publisher. Yet they are by no means useless to their author, if they are unappreciated by the world. He employs them as mattrasses and pillows for his bed; and he busies himself with scattering great quantities of water out of his window in order to dissipate those heavy vapours which have prevented the booksellers from perceiving what would be so greatly to their advantage. During the day, this singular man traverses all the streets, and goes round to all the Beer-kneips. With short and measured steps he walks about clad in an old coat which he owes to the kindness of some student. Now it is a polonaise, now a velvet frock, and anon it is a mackintosh. He wears, like the student, a little cap, from below which hangs his scanty and white hair. His countenance has a singular expression of mixed pride and humility, of friendliness and melancholy; and in his right hand he carries a light stick, in such a manner as if every moment he was about to raise it in the act of demonstrating some of his cosmopolitan propositions. This moment he picks up from the street some worthless fragment, and even a bit of wood for his fire; the next instant he whistles his little dog, a faithful companion to which he is most fondly attached; and now he is greeting this person and the other, with the words "How goes it, my friend, to-day, with thee?" for he stands on the _Smollis_ with every body, that is, he puts himself on the familiar footing of thee and thou; to another, "Good-day, my dear son." In the Kneips he seeks to attract attention by an harangue, or by his remarks on the affairs of the day. He then waits with quietness till the landlord, in requital for the drawing together of hearers, sets before him a small refreshment, or till a compassionate guest treats him to a choppin of beer, or presents him with a few kreutzers. Formerly he had a stall in the half-yearly fair, where he sold partly pins made by himself, and partly other wares, as knives and scissors, and such like, at double the price at which the man at the next stall, who furnished him with them, did. That our readers may have some idea of the character and quality of the worthy privy counsellor's compositions, of which he says he has at least eighteen thousand sheets by him, we give a specimen which was written expressly for us, and which the reader may or may not, just as he is disposed, try his teeth upon. We have, however, no doubt but that those sagacious and penetrating people who have put in the mouth of Jean Paul Richter so many things which he never thought of, will also do our Hofrath the same most obliging kindness, and wish right heartily that he may have the good fortune to find at least one such commentator.