make a bad guess at the truth, or, more correctly, he would come far short of the truth about the number of souls. As a people made up of the most extraordinary mixing and mingling of races, perhaps even with a preponderance of the pre-Aryan element as the “people of the centre” in every sense of the term, the Germans are more intangible, more ample, more contradictory, more unknown, more incalculable, more surprising, and even more terrifying than other peoples are to themselves: — they escape DEFINITION, and are thereby alone the despair of the French.

It IS characteristic of the Germans that the question: “What is German?” never dies out among them. Kotzebue certainly knew his Germans well enough: “We are known,” they cried jubilantly to him — but Sand also thought he