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Updated: June 14, 2025
The prevailing tone was of a gray tending to the pale yellow of the Tauchnitz editions with which the place is more familiarly associated in the minds of English-speaking travellers.
He tried to interest himself in one after another of half a dozen Tauchnitz novels his niece carried about, with a preposterous absence of success. He strove to arrange in some kind of sequence the things that he should say, when this momentous interview should begin, but he could think of nothing which did not sound silly.
But I had no reason to suppose that she knew right from wrong in art or literature, any more than she would seem to have distinguished between them in life itself. Her Tauchnitz novel lay beside her on the grass and I again reflected that it would not have found a place on Catherine's loftiest shelf.
"As if one were a man!" "That is what Milady said," Bice answered demurely. "I think she would help me to work, to get something to do. But she did not tell me what it would be; perhaps to teach children; perhaps to work with the needle. I know that is how it happens in the Tauchnitz. You do not read them, and, therefore, do not know; but I am instructed in all these things.
Every member of the family spoke English, afternoon tea was served as at home, and the latest Tauchnitz volumes lay on the table. Difficult indeed it seemed to realise that I had crossed the frontier, that though within easy reach, almost in sight of it, the miss, alas! Was as good as a mile. Alsace-Lorraine, I may here mention, is a verbal annexation dating from 1871.
The continental edition of it, published by Baron Tauchnitz, has a wide circulation; and since for this reason the book cannot practically be withheld from the public, it is thought desirable that the publication of it should at least be accompanied by some record of the abovementioned fact.
To-night she asked him the meaning of a word, title of a Tauchnitz novel she had been reading Juggernaut; but, being on his deaf side, he caught 'Huguenot' instead, and gave her a laboured explanation, strangled by appalling grammar. The historical allusions dazed her; the explanation ended on a date. She was sorry she had ventured, for it made her feel so ignorant.
Friday, August 5. Dusseldorf to Leipsic, three hundred and seventy-three miles. A very level and apparently fertile country. If well governed it ought to increase vastly in riches. Saturday, August 6. Called at the counting house of M. Tauchnitz, the celebrated publisher. An hour after, accompanied by Mrs. T., he came with two open carriages, and took us to see the city and environs.
She looked into a place filled with Tauchnitz Editions, and bought two or three books. She was beginning to think that she was tired and had better make her way back to the station, when suddenly she remembered the post-office and her instructions to Fanny Mere. "I wonder," she said, "if Fanny has written to me." She asked the way to the post-office. There was time if she walked quickly.
But he said in the preface to the Tauchnitz edition: "The kind of success most gratifying to me after writing a book of this kind would be to convert some readers to my own method, or rule, in the formation of opinion, whether it concerns one side or the other. "My method is a good one, but not so good for eloquence as the hastier methods of journalism." And in the preface of the English edition:
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