THREE ODD LEGENDS OF BERLIN. "WHEN I reflect upon the superstitious fancies in which our forefathers indulged, and compare them with the vagaries of the so-called spiritualists of the present day, it seems to me that, in one respect at least, the world has not advanced in wisdom. The village ghost, who frightened the peasant, was at any rate supposed to appear for an important purpose-generally for the sake of righting wrong, of protecting innocence, or of punishing crime. The poor old woman, who was laughed at by the free-thinking squire for believing that some defrauded orphan recovered the property from which he had been debarred, through the information generously afforded by some grim lady, who wore extremely rustling silk, might have scoffed in her turn at the manifestation of a departed spirit, who revealed himself to mortal ears merely for the purpose of spelling his name indifferently, with a vast deal of misspent trouble.' In addition to all these curious varieties wards, a working man at Wolverhampton, of partial activity during sleep, whether who, during a fit of somnambulism, fell out shown in the forms of walking, talking, of a third-story window, and was seriously working, or thinking, there are others which injured. From his known peculiarities, it have engaged the notice of physicians, and was inferred that he supposed himself to which tend to increase the mysterious com- be getting out of a kitchen window into a plexity of the whole affair. For instance, back-yard. In this case only a small porthere are false impressions suggested by tion of the man's faculties could have been real facts, and bearing some rude kind of awake. resemblance to them. A man in bed, who had a water-bottle rather too hot against his feet, dreamed that he was walking on the sulphur-lava of Etna; another, who had unknowingly thrown off the bed-clothes in a chilly night, dreamed that he was wintering in the Arctic regions; a third, who had a blister applied to his head, dreamed that he was being scalped by Indians; while a fourth, who was in a damp bed, dreamed that he was being dragged through a stream. The memory plays some strange tricks with sleep-walkers. A military officer, after a hard day of much marching and little eating, was told that there would be some hot soup ready at midnight; he threw himself down to rest, requesting to be called at the supper hour; next morning he knew nothing of the fact that he had really been called, and had really had his share of the soup. The two portions of sleep had been welded together in his mind, and he was not conscious of the interval that had separated them. Doctor Abercrombie notices the case of a woman who carried on a somnambulistic conversation in a remarkable way. She would, when asleep, relate events of the preceding day (like the young lady mentioned in a former paragraph), with this peculiarity that she repeated everything which she herself had said, but regularly left intervals in her discourse corresponding to the periods when the other party was supposed to be speaking; and she also left intervals between different conversations, shorter in reality, but corresponding in relative length, to the intervals which had, in fact, taken place." She repeated in her sleep nearly everything which she had uttered during the day, whether good or bad, but left blank spaces of time for everything that had been said to her by other persons. She was scarcely ever known to repeat anything that she had read; the muscular and audible act of speaking was the one thing that reproduced itself in this way-a way likely to be as inconvenient as it was strange. Sleepwalkers avoid accidents wonderfully well, as we have already said, yet not always so. In 1870, the newspapers told of one Job Ed 66 : Thus spake Laurence, looking amazingly wise. To him, with an approving nod, replied Maximilian: "Quite true; and now we are between four walls, I do not mind confessing that I never entertained that thorough contempt for the apparitions of the old school, which was encouraged, nay, almost enforced, early in the present century. Taught, as I had been, to place faith in a Providence, I never saw how I could consistently reject a narrative as false, merely because it involved the interposition of a supernatural agency." "Then," sneered Edgar, "you would believe that a story was true, on the strength of the circumstance that it inculcated a good moral? The world, in your opinion, must be very happily constituted." "You are going too far," remonstrated Laurence; "Maximilian did not mean anything of the kind. He merely intends to assert that we are not so thoroughly acquainted with the economy of the universe, that we have a right absolutely to deny the possibility of certain phenomena simply because they do not harmonise with the results of our general experience." That is the argument of those poor modern spiritualists on whom you look down with such lordly scorn," observed Edgar. "Be consistent at any rate." 66 We are perfectly consistent," retorted Maximilian. "We refuse even to investigate the facts offered to our notice by the magi to whom you refer, because the facts are trivial, and in our opinion not worth investigation. However, let me vary this discussion with a narrative which was long current among the people of Berlin." "A ghost story of the good old school," insinuated Edgar. "Well," said Maximilian, "it does not in any way refer to a ghost in the ordinary sense of the word; but still it purports to record an instance of supernatural agency, deemed extraordinary in its time. Just at the close of the sixteenth century, when John George was Elector of Brandenburg, three brothers, whose Christian names were Bruno, Michael, and Gotthold, lived in the capital of the present kingdom of Prussia. These brothers were so deeply attached to each other that the emotions experienced by any one of them were almost equally felt by the other two." A leash of Corsican brothers," interposed Edgar. 66 The youngest brother," proceeded Maximilian, "became desperately enamoured of the daughter of Maestro Rapposi, an Italian, who was the elector's chief Kapellmeister. The maestro lodged in a house belonging to an uncle of the three brothers, and consequently Gotthold had an opportunity of declaring his passion, of which he was not slow to take advantage. His avowal having been heard with favour by the young lady, he lost no time in communicating his good fortune to his brothers, and a consultation was forthwith held as to the best means of obtaining the consent of the father to the union of the lovers. The Italian was very proud of his position, and was not to be approached lightly, and as Bruno, the elder brother, had distinguished himself much by playing on the violin before the elector, and had thus gained the post of second Kapellmeister, he was deemed the most fitting negotiator. Unfortunately, the very deserts of Bruno, on which Gotthold had relied, destroyed his efficiency, for Rapposi saw in the young musician a dangerous rival, and hating him accordingly with a professional hatred, met Bruno's proposal with a stern declaration that all intercourse between Mademoiselle Rapposi and Gotthold must immediately cease. "The sight of a public execution," continued Maximilian," was, in the days of which I am speaking, regarded as a fitting recreation for persons of indubitable respectability, and thus far it was but natural that the Italian maestro and the three brothers found themselves in a dense throng assembled to see the last sentence of the law inflicted on an unfortunate young person, guilty of infanticide. As it happened, they all stood close together, and the attention of the crowd was diverted from the criminal by a loud shriek, followed by the fall of the Italian, who pointed to a knife, which had been plunged up to the hilt into his bosom, and immediately expired. Bruno, who stood nearest to the deceased, was at once arrested on suspicion; and, in spite of his protestations that he had neither struck the blow himself, nor knew in the least who was the assassin, he was speedily sentenced to death. No sooner, however, had the sentence been passed, than each of the remaining two brothers, without communicating together, resolved to save Bruno by an act of self-sacrifice, and accordingly both appeared before the tribunal, each declaring that he was the real murderer. Bruno, to frustrate their generous intentions, belied his former protestations of innocence, and, in his turn, took the crime upon himself. Here, then, was a difficult case, for it was clear that three persons could not have killed a man with one knife, and the perplexed judges referred the case to the elector, who hit upon a curious ordeal as an expedient for ascertaining the truth. He ordered that the three brothers should each carry a lindentree to a certain churchyard, and plant it with its head downwards, adding that the one whose tree did not grow under these difficult circumstances, should be executed as a murderer." "It seems as though John George meant to exterminate all three, though he went to work in a roundabout fashion," growled Edgar. 66 "Not at all," objected Maximilian. "The elector was assured that the Providence to whom he appealed would supernaturally interfere to prevent a manifest injustice. He had the simple faith of our ancestors, who believed that the innocent could indicate their innocence by walking over redhot plough-shares, and events proved that he was not mistaken." "Granted the truth of the story," interrupted Edgar. "The brothers," resumed Maximilian, proceeded to the designated churchyard, accompanied by all the clergy, the magistracy, and many citizens of Berlin, and then, after many prayers had been said, and many hymns had been sung, they planted their trees, which solemn act performed, they returned home, where they were allowed to remain unguarded." "Some would have used their liberty to quit Berlin with all possible speed," murmured Edgar; "but of course such was not the case with this band of brothers ?" "It was not," said Maximilian, "and results proved that they were right, for the upper branches of the trees all struck root into the earth, and the original roots were transformed into branches, which instead of growing upwards spread horizontally in rich luxuriance. In less than thirty years they overshadowed the churchyard." "And they are to be seen now ?" asked Edgar. "No, since that time they have perished," answered Maximilian, "but the brothers were ennobled by the elector as Lords of Linden, and bore the effigy of the marvellous trees on their escutcheon. Gotthold married the Italian's daughter." "But who, after all, killed the maestro?" inquired Edgar. Never did I hear a question so prosaic!" ejaculated Laurence. "The real murderer," said Maximilian, was never discovered, but it is supposed that the Italian killed himself, on purpose to imperil the life of his rival.' 66 "If the supposition be correct," remarked Edgar, here is the most wonderful part of the whole story. Never did I hear so strong an instance of a man cutting off his nose, in order to be revenged on his face. And you mean to say you believe all this ?" "Not at all," answered Laurence. "It is beyond our power to prove the recorded facts. But still, Maximilian has given us a case, where a strong reason for supernatural interposition is adduced-a legend which is consistent with itself." Great, it seems, to reward a certain citizen for valuable services to the state, built him a handsome house, which was decorated with a number of statues. Another citizen, who lived in the immediate vicinity, regarded with an envious eye the favour shown to his neighbour, and put himself at the head of a charitable movement, with the view of gaining a similar prize. This plan proved to a certain extent successful, as the king built a house for him likewise." "The great king seems to have been very fond of building houses for his subjects," remarked Laurence. "You have exactly hit on the truth," retorted Edgar. "He wished to decorate his chosen capital with as many handsome edifices as possible, and therefore he readily availed himself of the pretext offered by the two citizens. Well, when the second house was built, completed, and presented to its future occupant, that unpleasant gentleman gave signs of discontent so manifest that they did not escape the notice of the king, who good-humouredly asked him the cause of his dissatisfaction. The explanation was to the effect that the man felt disappointed because his house was not, like his neighbour's, adorned with statues. Frederick promised to remedy the defect, and on the following day an artist received an order to decorate the grumbler's house with calves' heads, to the number of ninety-nine. With these,' said the king, 'I trust he will be satisfied. The hundredth calf's head he will furnish himself.' Now there is a story which points a moral, and in which there is nothing incredible at all. Some of the calves' heads, I am told, are still to be seen, though the entire number has been diminished by the operation of time." "You have not critically examined the evidence upon which the credibility of this story rests ?" inquired Maximilian. "You have merely taken it as you find it, actuated by that love of legends which is common to all three of us." "Precisely," answered Edgar. "Well, then," said Maximilian, "in the absence of the very strongest testimony in its favour, I must declare that I find your story, free as it is from all reference to the supernatural, quite as incredible as mine. We are called upon to believe that a king, remarkable for his economy, and, moreover, anxious to beautify his city, went to the trouble and expense of setting up ninetynine ugly ornaments in a conspicuous place, merely because he wanted to crack an indifferent joke." "I ought to tell you," said Edgar, somewhat cowed, "that the heads were those not of calves but of sheep. As a symbol of stupidity the calf's head in England answers the purpose of the sheep's head in Germany, and therefore "And therefore you touched up the legend, that the point might not be lost," observed Laurence; "and no doubt it had been touched up by many others before it reached your knowledge. No doubt the originator of the tale was struck by the oddity of the ornaments, and set about inventing a probable cause of their origin." "It should always be borne in mind," observed Maximilian, " that the monuments with which legends are connected bear very feeble testimony to their truth. The legend professes to account for the monument, but frequently it is the monument that suggested the legend. However, I will tell you another tale from Berlin, the moral purpose of which is much the same as that conveyed by the story of the three brothers. In the time of Frederick William, celebrated as the Great Elector of Brandenburg, that is to say, in the latter half of the seventeenth century, there lived at Berlin a wealthy inn-keeper, with a daughter notable for her beauty, whose hand was sought by Heinrich and Rudolph, two of the elector's body-guard. The damsel preferred Heinrich, who was of a mild, even temper, to Rudolph, whose nature was somewhat stormy; and as the former had ingratiated himself with the inn-keeper by rescuing him from a gang of ruffians, his suit was accepted, and Rudolph retired, internally vowing revenge, and resolving to do mischief at the earliest opportunity. An occasion presented itself, when the betrothed lovers met at a retired spot, and he became a concealed witness of the interview. Inflamed with jealousy, he rushed from his hiding-place as soon as Heinrich had left the spot, thrust his sword into the damsel's bosom, and fled unobserved. Her lifeless body was found soon afterwards, and popular suspicion was divided between the two admirers. On the one hand, Rudolph's disappointment and consequent jealousy were well known; on the other, Heinrich had been the last person seen with the deceased. Both were arrested, but, in accordance with the custom of the age, both were put to the torture, and both protested their innocence. The elector in his perplexity decreed that each of the parties accused should throw a pair of dice, and that he whose throw was lowest should be deemed guilty of murder." "Observe the progress of enlightenment in less than a century," exclaimed Edgar. "Our old friend John George, with his inverted linden-trees, was apparently inclined towards the policy of those wise schoolmasters who, when they could not detect the perpetrator of some mischievous deed, flogged their pupils all round. The great elector, on the other hand, gives somebody a chance of escape, though the luckless thrower may as well be the innocent man as the murderer." "In both stories the elector," said Maximilian, "is supposed to rely upon Providence, though in one only is miraculous intervention manifestly invoked. The body-guards were all assembled to witness the trial of the dice. For the table stood a drum, near which a coffin was placed, while a reverend gentleman was in attendance to perform the last offices. Rudolph, who began the contest, threw a pair of sixes, and his victory seemed secure. Heinrich, undaunted, implored Heaven to bear witness to his innocence, and, as if in answer to his prayer, one of the dice was split into two pieces, one of which showed a six, and the other an ace, the unbroken die showing a six, and thus making a total of thirteen. Struck by this extraordinary phenomenon, Rudolph at once confessed his guilt, and was sentenced by the elector, not to death, but to perpetual imprisonment." "The great elector," cried Edgar, "turns out to be better than he promised." IN A CANOE. As the sunset dies I close my eyes, And see the river winding, winding, I had forgotten the grand old poet In woods that stretch over leagues together: Up the stream by the two grey bridges ? Is it a bird so red, so red ?" 'Twas the silken snood of a dainty head: Coming down in your gay canoe, I will be that maiden's master. Such my oath : Is my darling loth? Down you came by lawny villa As the swans led out their young flotilla; But your paddle splashed, your gay silk rustled, You had found your fate in your gay canoe. PROTECTIVE MIMICRY. IN our article on Protective Resemblances we endeavoured to show how use ful a special colouring is to many animals, and how easily it is produced by the application of well-known Darwinian laws. In the present paper we enter upon a new form of protective agency, and have to consider creatures whose colours are marked and conspicuous, and which completely resemble some other creature of a totally different group, while they differ widely in outward appearance from those to which, in structure and organisation, they are in reality most closely allied. This resemblance of one animal to another is of precisely the same essential nature as the resemblance, already noticed, to a leaf or to a dead twig. In the one case the bird will not attack the leaf or twig, and so the disguise is a safeguard; in the other case, for various reasons, presently to be mentioned, the creature resembled is not attacked by the various enemies of its order, and the creature resembling it has an equal safeguard. Mr. Bates was the first naturalist who specially devoted his attention to the subject of mimicry in animals, although many observers had noticed individual cases of it. "Mimetic analogies," he observes, resemblances in external appearance, shape, and colour, between members of widely distinct families. An idea of what is meant may be formed by supposing a pigeon to * See ALL THE YEAR ROUND, New Series, vol. v., p. 469. exist with the general figure and plumage of a hawk." He was led to the consideration of this group of phenomena, by his observations on certain butterflies, inhabiting the forests on the banks of the Amazon. There is an extensive family of these insects, the Heliconidæ, which are almost always more abundant in these regions than any other butterflies. They are distinguished by very elongate wings, body, and antennæ, and are exceedingly beautiful and varied in their colours; spots, and patches of yel low, red, or pure white, upon a black, blue, or brown ground, being the most general. They fly slowly and weakly, and yet, although they are so conspicuously coloured, and do not conceal themselves during repose, and could so readily be caught by birds, they are apparently safe from all attacks. This immunity is probably due to their possessing a strong, pungent, semiaromatic or medicinal odour, which per vades all their juices, and would thus render them disgusting to birds, lizards, and other insectivorous animals. In the there are also white butterflies, forming region where this family of insects is found the family Pierida (to which our cabbage butterfly belongs), in which is a genus (Leptalis), some species of which are white, like their allies, while the majority exactly resemble the Heliconidae in the form and colouring of the wings, although the two families differ as widely in their structural character as the carnivora and the ruminantia among quadrupeds. Yet the resemblance between a species of the one family with a species of the other family was often so great that Mr. Bates and Mr. Wallace, when they were fellow-travellers in the Amazon valley, were often deceived at the time of capture, and, although experienced entomologists, did not discover the distinctness of the two insects until they made a more complete examination of them. During his eleven years' residence in that region, Mr. Bates found a number of species of Leptalis, each of which was a more or less exact copy of one of the Helicarried out in a wonderful degree in form conide of the district, and the imitation is as well as in colouring. The wings, the have become elongated, so as to correspond antennæ, and the body of the mimickers with the peculiar and unusual condition in which they exist in the insects they resemble. The different genera of the family of Heliconidæ have special types of colouring. In one genus the wings are of a rich |