Since her marriage Madame von Hillern has resided at Freiburg, in the grand duchy of Baden, where her husband holds a legal position analogous to that of the judge of a superior court.  Her social life is one of great activity, though much of her time is given to superintending the education of her two daughters.  But the abounding energy of her nature made it inevitable that her artistic instincts, repressed in one direction, should seek their full development in another.  Literature was naturally her choice.  Her first work, Doppelleben, appeared in 1865, and though defective in construction, owing to a change of plan in the process of composition, served to give assurance of her powers and to inspire her with the requisite confidence.  Three years later Ein Arzt der Seele, of which a translation under the title of Only a Girl has been widely circulated in America, established her claim to a high place among the writers of her class.  Her third work, Aus eigener Kraft (By his own Might), met with equal success, securing for its author a large circle of readers on both sides of the Atlantic ready to welcome the future productions of her pen.  The qualities which distinguish her writings are vigor of conception, sharpness of characterization, a moral earnestness pervading the judgments and reflections, and an ardor, sometimes too exuberant, which gives intensity to the delineation even while exciting doubts of its fidelity.  Similar qualities had characterized her acting, and they spring from a nature which a close observer has described as clear in perception yet swayed by fantasy; strong of will yet impulsive as quicksilver; finding enjoyment now in animated discussion, now in impetuous riding, now in absolute repose; full of maternal tenderness, yet fond of splendor and the excitements of society; a nature, in short, abounding in contrasts, but substantially that of a true, noble and lovable woman.

HIS NAME?

(An incident of the Boston fire.)

I.

—­Oh the billows of fire! 
With maelstrom-like swirl,
Their surges they hurl
Over roof—­over spire,
Mad—­masterless—­higher,—­
Till with rumble—­crack—­crash,
Down boom with a flash,
Whole columns of granite and marble;—­see! see! 
Sucked in as a weed on the ocean might be,
Or engulfed as a sail
In the hurricane riot and wreak of the gale!

II.

Ha! yonder they rush where the death-dealing stream,
Over-pent, waits their gleam,
To shiver the city with earthquake!—­Who, who
Will adventure, mid-flame, and unfasten the screw,—­
Set the fiend loose, and save us so?—­Fireman, you,
You willing?—­Would God you might hazard it!—­
Nay,
The red tongues are licking the faucets now:  Stay! 
—­Too late,—­’tis too late! 
If ruin comes, wait
Its coming:  To go, is to perish:—­Hold!