stood near her as a being that she must regard with almost religious veneration." Mingled with this reverence, a tenderer feeling crept in, and it soon became apparent to her family that she was ardently in love with Paul. However, as he did not, as matter of certainty, immediately discover this, and as perhaps at first his own feelings were not very decided, he left for Weimar without making any advances. The little attention he had paid to Caroline was in the meantime not unnoticed: the gossips of Berlin even spread a report that she had kissed his hand in public; and this, coming to her father's ears, induced the old gentleman to forbid any reference to Richter by the family, until he should himself make some more positive declaration of his wishes. This, as it happened, was not long wanting. When Richter returned to Berlin in October, Caroline was the first person informed of his arrival, by a few lines, in which he asked permission to visit her family that evening. Though they had never as yet said a word of love, their eyes had met, and their hearts had spoken too truly for them to be longer silent. "And that very evening," says the record, "as he conducted Caroline to visit her mother, his tongue was loosed, and their destiny for ever united."

Nowise backward was the young Fraulein to make the circumstance known to the old Counsellor. Early the next morning, kneeling at the bedside of her father, and whispering in his ear how Richter had made a "declaration," Caroline asked his blessing on their love, with a timidity and earnestness such as to a maiden was becoming. The good man's answer shows his simplicity and disinterestedness of character. "My child," said he, "if the satisfaction of your father can add anything to your happiness, believe me, no union could give me so much joy. I feel it as a reward for all my care of your education." Now when it is remembered that Richter was not a man of landed estate, or of pecuniary substance in any shape; that he had not even the prospect of a dollar, except what he could coin by his own wit; it must be acknowledged that father Meyer was as unworldly and as unselfish in his notions as his daughter. The connexion has not been unfitly styled romantic; and no doubt many of the "respectabilities" of Berlin regarded it as imprudent. For we are assured that Caroline had been brought up and educated amid luxury and refinement; and thus what she had been accustomed to might not unreasonably seem to her as the necessaries of existence. The Counsellor, living in his sumptuous fashion, seems, indeed, to have regularly spent his income as it became due, and therefore was not in a position to give his daughters any dowry; yet in point of rank and standing in society, he was a personage who, had he possessed a narrow or vulgar mind, was likely to look somewhat contemptuously upon an alliance between his daughter and an author who was dependent for his daily bread upon his talents. That no objection was raised on this score seems to speak highly for the unselfish and trusting disposition of Herr Meyer. At any rate, in the correspondence between Richter and the worthy Counsellor, not a word is said of property. Paul says, when asking the father for his daughter:

In this moment of my great request, all other things appear too little to be touched upon by either of us. I approach the man for

whom my esteem and love, even without the relation I desire, would be almost filial; as his feminine tenderness and manly philosophy have together nourished the root of this beautiful flower of the sun, and made it so firm, yet so tender. To this good father of this good daughter, I present my short, but weighty prayer. Let her be mine! She will be happy, as I shall be !"

In a strain no less elevated the father answered-"That it had been the aim of all his plans, in the education of his daughters, to prepare them to unite themselves with such men as Richter-and that he gave his unconditional consent." The mother also concurred; and the betrothing (or public ceremonial by which in Germany two persons signify that they are indissolubly engaged) took place immediately.

Paul, as he thought, had at last, in his thirty-eighth year, found that embodied ideal of feminine perfection and loveliness which had so long haunted his imagination. He says, in some note or letter:-" Caroline has exactly that inexpressible love for all beings that I have, till now, failed to find, even in those who in everything else possess the splendour and purity of the diamond. She preserves, in the full harmony of her love to me, the middle and lower tones of sympathy for every joy and sorrow of others." Her personal charms and graces he thus describes to Otto-"She has the beauty, rare among Germans, of a dark, soft eye, and Madonna brow ;" and he goes on to say that she has "selfsacrificing love, without equal; modesty, openness; and in the midst of the purest love for me, her heart trembles at every sound of sorrow. She has the warmest friends among women and young girls, and the innumerable visits of congratulation that she received at the news of our betrothment (verlobung) shows how much she is beloved by the Berliners."

a

These descriptions are sufficiently glowing and poetical, though there is no reason to believe that they much exceed the truth. Caroline Meyer seems really to have been a very remarkable young woman-one in all respects worthy of the exalted opinion which her lover entertained of her. The coldest and least exaggerative of Richter's biographers

says:

"Purity of mind, unlimited love to her parents and sisters, and benevolence to all mankind, were native to her. She added inexpressible reverence for Richter, and unconditional submission to his wishes. With a love for all that was beautiful in art, she had very moderate views of the value of the outward in life; great enthusiasm of feeling, and through trial and experience a penetrating knowledge of the world; but with an accomplished education, and almost unlimited resonrces within herself, her outward life and appearance was modest, and without pretension."

Such a one was certainly worth the wooing; and happy must have been the man who had the privilege of winning her. Perhaps Richter had never been so happy as he was during the few months that followed his betrothment to Caroline. Everything went on agreeably; and at length, on the 27th of May, 1801, the marriage was duly solemnized. Leaving Berlin, Paul and his bride travelled over the most beautiful parts of Dessau, visited the Herders in Weimar, and then proceeded on to Meiningen, where they for a time set up their household. In their

new life, both deemed themselves the favoured of earth and heaven. In a long letter to her father, shortly after their marriage, Caroline writes

"I never believed I should be so happy as I am. Every minute binds our souls closer to each other. It will sound extravagant to you if I say, the high enthusiasm which Richter excited in me has continually risen as we have entered into real life together. Never can a misunderstanding arise between us. My mind, through love and the highest goodness, is so ten derly tuned, and my sense of obligation so elevated, that I never, as formerly, despond. How could I place my will in opposition to this splendid humanity that works only through love and humility? Thank God, I have a husband with whom love in married life can only take the path of honour and morality; one that I must obey, as we obey virtue itself. And this man so loves me, that I have nothing to wish but that we may die together."

Richter's testimony to the felicity of his new estate is nowise less emphatic. To the correspondent so often named, he says:

"That the brightest and purest fountain of love to mankind takes nothing from love to the individual, I learn from my Caroline. Every day it becomes more expansive. Rare as beautiful is her adoration of the spiritual of poetry and nature; wonderful her disinterestedness and complete abnegation of self. There is nothing that she would not do for me, or others. World-long cares are to her nothing, as her industry and love of duty are infinite.

As yet we have had nothing, or only very little, to irritate, I cannot say that I am satisfied, but I am certainly blest. Ah, see her! What are words! Marriage has made me love her more romantically, deeper, infinitely more than before."

Thus, after all his courtships and flirtations, Richter has gained at last the helpmate meet for him. His good fortune was, perhaps, more than was to be expected. It was certainly the reverse of that indicated in the proverb about going through the wood in search of a walkingstick, and coming out with a crooked one at last. Richter's wife was every way a genial and right admirable companion. Their wedded life was not without its measure of cares and trials, and even commonplace vexations; but through all they clung lovingly to each other; and thus whatever burden there might be was lightened, and every passing joy through mutual participation magnified. Children were born to them, and grew up to be the consolation of their later age; and when the parting hour came, neither could look back and reproach the other with unkindness, or any lack of conjugal devotion.

THE BALLARAT GOLD-FIELDS.

As I was purposing to return to the old country, I resolved, previous to my departure, to take a critical survey of the celebrated Ballarat goldfield, which I chose in preference to any other digging, not only on account of its vast size and productiveness, but also because it exhibits every mode of gold-mining in a more perfect and practical manner than any of the other mining communities. I need not trouble the reader with an account of the first day's journey to Geelong, nor need I delay him with what I imagine would be a stranger's impressions of that very quiet, respectable-looking little town. Everyone who has been in the Colony has heard of the quietness of Geelong, and most people have experienced the truth of the common report. As it would be unnecessary to give the reader an account of my first day's journey, so it would be cruel to distress him with a narration of the sufferings of the second. Stuck, or rather jammed, on the top of a coach, badly cushioned and poorly horsed; scorched by the sun, choked and thoroughly blackened by the dust, and jolted and racked in a manner which it would be impertinent to describe, I passed eight hours in a frame of mind and body which strongly reminded me of that middle state between heaven and hell believed in by certain Christians.

After leaving the immediate vicinity of Geelong, the country presents, for the greater part of the way to Ballarat, a very barren and inhospitable appearance. No river, no lake, no verdure relieving the monotony of the brown plains, and half red, half yellow-looking trees. But as you approach Bunningyong, which is about twelve miles from Ballarat, a marked improvement takes place, the soil being of a richer nature, and the verdure being proportionally improved.

Of the mountain Bunningyong, from which the little town at its base takes its name, I shall have more presently to say. As it is, we must keep with the coach, which passes through the town to the chief inn, where the horses are changed. While this operation is being performed, we may give a word or two of information about the town. Gold had been discovered in Bunningyong some time before it was found in Ballarat, consequently the advance of the township was at first very rapid, and would likely enough have continued to be so, had it not been compelled to hide its diminished head before its Herculean rival. The wonderful richness of the latter digging drew all the mining population from Bunningyong, leaving it, for the most part, a collection of closed public-houses and deserted stores. Land which had sold for £1,000 would not now fetch £100; and if Bunningyong has not the beauty, it certainly has the desolation, of the "Deserted Village of the Plain." There are some substantial houses still occupied, and a few deep-sinkings are carried on near the township.

Once again in the coach, we enjoy an agreeable drive into Ballarat, having fresh and good horses, and the singular novelty in this country of an excellent road through a pleasant landscape. As we gradually approach the great centre of attraction, we are warned of its proximity

by the number of "Prospect Holes"—that is, holes sunk on trial by parties who were endeavouring to find the lead or direction of the gold. Groups of anxious diggers, too, passing along the road, become more numerous, and two or three half-way public-houses, as each claim to be, excite and direct a stranger's attention to the singular scene he is now approaching. The drive through the Ballarat diggings gives one a very inadequate idea of them as a whole, and the rapid pace the horses are worked up to as they approach their destination, the innumerable number of pursuing dogs, as well as the novelty of the objects immediately about us, occupy one quite enough, without leaving time for general observation. I shall therefore digress a little from the natural order, to state the general appearance which the diggings present when viewed from the neighbouring mountain of Bunningyong.

The Flat of Ballarat, where the greatest yields of gold were originally found, is of very considerable extent, and is bisected by the River Lee-river I call it, as other people do so, but I must privately inform the reader that it is nothing more than a dirty, and at times imperceptible, watercourse; very useful, however, in mining operations. This Flat was the original gold-field, and still is the principal one; from it branch diggings run out from twelve to fourteen miles, presenting, by reason of the tents and the excavated clay, a whitened appearance over more or less of the country. Ant-hills in white ground give an apt illustration of the appearance of the diggings; in truth, the operation in both cases is precisely similar, even to the piling up of the excavated clay, only that the ants perform this latter operation with more skill than the miners. The Sebastopol diggings, the most remote connected with the Ballarat group, appear to the north, the tents at that distance being like so many white mushrooms. On the eastern and southern sides the mountains of Bunningyong and Warrenheip surround the plain, while the lakes of Burrembeet and Learmouth display their glassy, shining surfaces near the distant horizon to the west. On the side of the mountains, a deep, lofty forest, extending up to the diggings, presents a striking contrast to the bare and whitened plain. Beyond this general description of the situation of the goldfields, nothing more can with truth be said of its appearance, as in itself it is little else than a ragged collection of very dirty-looking tents on a very miserable plain.

As the coach reaches the end of the main road everybody stops to stare at us. Diggers, very muddy about the legs, stock-men very bowed about the legs, and Chinese very curious in every respect about the legs, are all turning and gaping at us; so that in fact we get no relief from the public gaze till we are turned into the coach-yard of the George Hotel, by a rapid kind of whirl that almost sends us from our seats, and makes us feel full of gratitude that for the present, at least, the dangers and tortures of the journey are over. The George Hotel, the chief one of the place, is a wooden building, well enough provided and furnished, though the attendance at our first day's dinner was not exactly what we were accustomed to, the waiter having put the fish and meats on the table together, and after having disposed of both, asked us if we would like any soup? Not however to weary the reader with insignificant particulars, I shall at once proceed to give him