laughed again and again, and at last took two gold pieces from his pocket, and gave them to Philip; "Here, my friend, take these, but say not a word of your night's adventures. No harm shall come of it to you. Now go, my friend, and remember what I have told you."
Philip knelt down at the King's feet and kissed his hand. When he stood up and was leaving the room, Prince Julian said, "I humbly beseech your Majesty to allow the young man to Wait a "few minutes outside. I have some compensation to make to him for the inconvenience he has suffered."
The King nodded his smiling assent, and Philip left the apartment.
"Prince!" said the King, holding up his fore-finger in a threatening manner to his son, "'tis well for you you told me nothing but the truth. For this time I must pardon your wildness, but if such a thing happens again you will offend me seriously. I must take Duke Herrman in hand myself. I shall not be sorry if we can get quit of him. As to the Ministers of Finance and Police, I must have farther proofs of what you say. Go now, and give some present to the gardener. He has shown more discretion in your character than you have in his."
The Prince took leave of the King, and having carried Philip home with him, made him go over—word for word—every thing that had occurred. When Philip had mushed his narrative, the Prince clapt him on the shoulder and said,
"You've acted my part famously. All that you have done I highly approve of; and ratify every arrangement you have made, as if I myself had entered into it. But, on the other hand, you. must take all the blame of my doings with the horn and staff. As a punishment for your verses, you shall lose your office of watchman. You shall be my head-gardener from this date; and have charge of my two gardens at Heimleben and Quellenthal. The money I gave your bride she shall keep as her marriage-portion, and I give you the order of Marshal Blankenswerd for five thousand dollars as a mark of my regard. Go now; be faithful and true. The adventures of the New-year's night have made Prince Julian your friend."
AN INTRODUCTION TO THE PHILOSOPHY OF CONSCIOUSNESS.
Chapter I.
Among the fables of the East there is a story which runs thus. A certain young man inherited from his forefathers a very wonderful lamp, which for generations had been the ornament of his family, and from which he now derived his livelihood, as they, in former times, had done. Its virtues were of such a nature that, while by its means all his reasonable wants were supplied, a check was, at the same time, imposed upon any extravagant exercise of its beneficence. Once-a-day, and no oftener, might its services be called into requisition. It consisted of twelve branches, and as soon as these were lighted, twelve dervishes appeared, each of whom, after performing sundry circumvolutions, threw him a small piece of money, and vanished. Thus was the young man provided every day with means sufficient for his daily subsistence; and his desires being moderate, he for a long time considered this a bountiful provision, and remained satisfied with the good which he enjoyed upon such easy terms.
By degrees, however, when he reflected upon his situation, his heart became disturbed by the stirrings of avarice and ambition, and a restless desire to know more of the extraordinary source from whence his comforts flowed. He was unwilling to die, like his ancestors, and transmit the lamp to his posterity, without at least making the attempt to probe his way into its profounder mysteries. He suspected that he was merely skimming the surface of a sea of inexhaustible riches, the depths of which he was sure the lamp might be made to open up to him, if he but understood and could give full effect to the secret of its working. And then, if this discovery were made, what earthly potentate would be able to vie with him in magnificence and power!
Accordingly, being filled with these
