papers. And now the work proceeded zealously. Seekaz undertook country scenes, in which the old people and children, copied directly from nature, succeeded admirably. The young men did not answer so well, being generally too thin; and the women failed from the opposite fault. For as he had a little, fat, good, but disagreeable-looking wife, who would let him have no model but herself, he could produce nothing attractive in this way. Moreover, he had been compelled to exceed the usual size of his figures. His trees had truth, but an over-minute kind of foliage. He was a pupil of Brintmann, whose pencil in easelpictures is not contemptible. Schütz, the landscape painter, was perhaps most at home in the undertaking. He was thoroughly master of the Rhine country, and of the sunny tone which animates it in the fine season of the year. He was not altogether unpractised in working on a larger scale, in which he showed no defect of execution or harmony. He produced very pleasing pictures. Trautmann Rembrandtized some resuscitation miracles of the New Testament, and, along with them, set fire to villages and mills on canvass. He, as I found from the sketches of the rooms, had a cabinet entirely allotted to him. Hirt painted some good oak and beech forests. His cattle were praiseworthy. Junker, being accustomed to imitate the most laboured of the Dutch, could least of all manage this furniture style. Yet he prevailed on himself to ornament many compartments with flowers and fruits, in return for ample pay ment. As I had known all these men from my earliest youth up, and had often visited them in their painting-roomsand as the Count also willingly had me with him I was present at the suggestions, consultations, orderings, as well as at the deliveries of the pictures, and safely ventured, especially when sketches and designs were presented, to offer my opinion. I had already obtained among amateursbut particularly at auctions, which I diligently attended the renown of knowing immediately what any historical picture represented, whether taken from Biblical or profane his tory, or from mythology; and even if I did not always hit the meaning of allegorical pictures, yet there was sel dom any one present who understood it better than I. Thus I had often persuaded the artists to represent this or that object, and I now most gladly made use of my actual opportunities. I still remember that I composed a detailed essay, in which I described twelve pictures, which were to exhi bit the story of Joseph. Some of them were executed. After these proceedings, that for a boy were certainly praiseworthy, I shall also mention a little disgrace which happened to me within this circle of artists. I was familiar with all the pictures which had been gradually brought into that room. My youthful curiosity left nothing unseen or unexamined. Once I found, behind the stove, a black little box. I did not fail to pry into its contents, and, without much deliberation, I drew back the bolt. The picture within was indeed of a kind not commonly displayed to the eyes, and, although I began to bolt it up again immediately, elv, I could not do this fast enough. The Count entered and caught me. "Who gave you leave to open this box?" said he, with his air of King's lieutenant. I had no very ready answer, and he instantly decreed my punishment with much severity: "For eight days you shall not enter this room." I made a bow, and went out: and most accurately did I obey the command, so as much to vex the good Seekaz, who used to work in the very room - for he liked me to be with him; and, out of a little spite, I carried my obedience so far, that I left on the threshold Seekaz's coffee, which I usually took to him. Thus he was obliged to leave his work and fetch it, which he took so ill that he grew almost to dislike me. It must now seem necessary to state more clearly, and make intelligible, how in such cases I made my way through, more or less easily, with French, which, however, I had not learned. In this, also, I found the use of my natural gift, by which I could readily catch the sound of a language, the rhythm, the accent, the tone, and all its outward peculiarities. I knew many Latin words; Italian suggested still more, and so in a short time I picked up so much by listening to servants and soldiers, sentries and visiters, that, if unable to mix in conversation, I could yet manage some questions and answers. All this, however, was little compared with the profit which I derived from the theatre. I had received from my grandfather a free ticket, which, in spite of my father's reluctance, and by dint of my mother's support, I made use of daily. Thus I sat now in the pit, before a foreign stage, and kept the sharper watch on the movement, and the expressiveness of gesture and speech, because I understood little or nothing of what was said, and could derive my -entertainment only from the action and tone of voice. I understood least of the comedy, because it was spoken quickly, and related to matters of common life, of the phrases of which I knew nothing. Tragedy was not so often played, and the measured step, the mechanical rhythm of the Alexandrines, the generality of the expression, made it every way more intelligible to me. So it was not long before I took up Racine, which I found in my father's library, and declaimed the pieces to myself in the stage manner, as the organ of my ear, and my organ of speech, so closely allied to that, had caught it; and this I did ■ with great animation, before I could understand any one speech from beginning to end. Nay, I learned whole passages by rote, and recited them like a trained speaking-bird; which was the easier to me, because I had previously learned by rote passages - of the Bible, which are mostly unintelligible to a child, and had accustomed myself to recite them in the tone of the Protestant preachers. The versified French comedy was, therefore, a great ■favourite. The pieces of Destouches, Marivaux, La Chaupée, were often produced, and I still remember distinctly many characteristic figures. Of those of Molière I recollect less. That which made the greatest impression on me was the Hypermenstra of Lemière, which, as a new piece, was performed with care, and often repeated. The impression which the Devin du Village, Rose and Colas, Annette and Lubin made on me, was very agreeable. I can even now recall the youths and girls, the ribands they were covered with, and the gestures they used. Before long, the wish arose in me to examine the theatre itself, for doing which abundant occasion offered; for, as I had not always patience to hear out the whole piece, and often amused myself among children of my own age, with many pranks in the corridors, and even, in the mild season, before the door, a handsome lively boy joined us, who belonged to the theatre, and whom I had seen in many little parts, though only casually. He could come best to an understanding with me, as I could use with him what I knew of French; and he sought me the more, because there was no boy of his age and nation in the theatre, or any where in the neigh. bourhood. We kept each other company at other times as well as during the play; and even while the representation went on, he seldom left me alone. He was a most delightful young braggart, prated charmingly and without ceasing, and had so much to tell of his adventures, quarrels, and other wonders, that he gave me extraordinary amusement. In four weeks I gained from him more of the language, and the art of communicating in it, than could have been imagined; so that no one knew how at once, and as if by inspiration, I had learned the foreign tongue. In the very earliest days of our acquaintance he drew me with him to the theatre, and took me specially to the green-room, where the actors and actresses remained in the intervals of their performance, and dressed and undressed themselves. The place was neither pleasant nor convenient; for the theatre had been crammed into a concert-room, so that there were no separate rooms behind the stage for the actors. A moderately-sized sideroom, which had formerly served for card parties, was now mostly occupied in common by both sexes, who appeared as little bashful before each other as before us children, when in putting on, or changing any part of the dress, there was some little infringement of decency. I had never seen any thing of the kind; yet from habit, on repeated visits, I soon learned to regard it as quite natural. Before long, however, a private and peculiar interest of my own sprang up. The young Derones- for so I will name the boy with whom I continued to keep up my connexion-was, except as to his boasting, a boy of good morals and very agreeable demeanour. He introduced me to his sister, who was a couple of years older than me, and a most pleasing girl, well grown, of regular shape, brown complexion, and black hair and eyes. Her whole demeanour had something quiet, even sad. I tried in every way to please her; but I could not win her notice. Young girls think themselves very far advanced beyond younger boys; and, fixing their attention on grown-up young men, behave like aunts towards a boy whose first inclination is directed to them. There was a younger brother with whom I had no inter course. Often, when the mother was at rehearsals, or in society, we came together in her house, in order to play or amuse ourselves. I never went there without giving the fair one a flower, a fruit, or something else, which, indeed, she always received with much courtesy, and thanked me most graciously. But I never saw her melancholy look brighten, and found no sign that she ever gave me any further thought. At last I fancied that I had discovered her secret. The boy showed me behind his mother's bed, which was ornamented with elegant silk curtains, a crayon drawing, the portrait of a handsome man; and he remarked at the same time, with a sly look, he is not exactly papa, but all the same thing. While he praised this man, and related many things in his circumstantial and boastful manner, I thought I made out that the daughter probably belonged to the father, and the two other children to the friend. Thus I now explained to myself her melancholy look, and only loved her for it the more. My liking for this girl helped me to put up with the extravagances of her brother, who did not always keep within bounds. I had often to endure the prolix narration of his exploits, the many duels he had fought, yet without choosing to hurt the other -all for the mere sake of honour. He had always been able to disarm his antagonist, and had then forgiven him. Nay, he was such a master of fencing, that he had been once himself in great difficulty from striking the sword of his opponent up into a high tree, so that it was hard to fetch it down again. again. It much facilitated my visits to the theatre, that my free ticket, being from the hands of the chief magistrate, gave me admission to any of the seats, and therefore, also, to those in the proscenium. This, in the French fashion, was very deep, and enclosed on each side with seats, which, being surrounded by a low rail, ascended in several rows behind each other, so that the lowest were raised but a little above the stage. The whole was regarded as a place of special honour, and in general only officers made use of it; although the nearness of the actors destroyed, I will not say all illusion, but even in a measure all enjoyment. Thus I had myself experienced, and seen with my own eyes, that usage or abuse which Voltaire so much complains of. When in a very full house, for instance if troops were passing through, distinguished officers strove for those privileged seats, which were nevertheless generally occupied before; then some rows of benches and chairs were added in the proscenium on the stage itself, and nothing remained for the heroes and heroines but to disclose their secrets in the very limited space which was left between the uniforms and orders. I have seen even the Hypermnestra itself played in this way. The curtain did not fall between the acts; and I still remember an odd custom, which I could not but think very extraordinary, as its inconsistency with art seemed to an honest German boy like me altogether insupportable. For the theatre was considered as a high sanctuary, and any disturbance occurring there, would have required to be immediately punished as the worst of offences against the majesty of the public. Two grenadiers, with their muskets grounded, stood therefore, in all comedies, quite in view at each side of the flat scene, and were witnesses of all that went on in the bosom of the family. Because, as I said before, the curtain was not dropped between the acts, therefore, when the music struck up, two others relieved guard by coming from the side scenes right before those others, who then in the same orderly way retired. Now, if such a practice was exactly fitted to destroy whatever in a theatre is called illusion-this is the more striking, be. cause it was done at a time when, according to Diderot's principles and example, the most natural of naturalness was required on the stage, and a perfect deception was proposed as the proper aim of scenic art. Tragedy, however, was freed from this regulation of military police, and the heroes of antiquity had the right of guarding themselves. The same grenadiers, however, stood near enough behind the side-scenes. Thus I may also mention, that I saw Diderot's Père de Famille, and the Philosophers of Palipot, and still perfectly remember the figure of the philosopher, in the latter play, going on allfours and eating a raw lettuce; yet all this dramatic variety could not always keep us children in the theatre. We played in fine weather in front of it, and in the neighbourhood, and practised all manner of absurdities, which, especially on Sundays and festivals, by no means agreed with our exterior. For I and my equals then appeared dressed, as was described in that tale, with the hat under the arm, and a little sword, of which the hilt was adorned with a large silken knot. Once when we had long proceeded in this way, and Derones had mixed among us, he took it into his head to assert to me that I had offended him, and must give him satisfaction. I had in truth no notion of the cause for this, but accepted his challenge, and was going to draw. But he assured me that it was usual in such cases to go to a solitary place, in order to settle the matter conveniently. We repaired, therefore, behind some barns, and placed ourselves in the proper attitude. The combat took place in a somewhat theatric style; the blades clinked, and the thrusts followed close upon each other. But in the heat of the contest, the point of his sword remained fixed in the knot of my hilt. This appendage was pierced through, and he assured me that he had now received the most perfect satisfaction; then embraced me, also very theatrically, and we went to the next coffeehouse to refresh ourselves after our excitement with a glass of almondmilk, and to knit our old friendship all the closer. I will relate on this occasion another adventure, which also befell me in the theatre, though at a later time. I sat with one of my companions very quietly in the pit, and we looked with pleasure at a pas-seul, executed with much skill and grace by a handsome boy, about our age, the son of a French dancing-master who was passing through the town. He was dressed, in dancer fashion, in a close waistcoat of red silk ending in a short frock, like a runner's apron, which floated above To-day he's red-to.. From the first day of the occupation of our town there was no want of perpetual diversion, especially for children and young people. Plays and balls, parades and marches, drew our attention this way and that. The last particularly, were always on the increase, and the soldier's life seemed to us most joyous and delightful. * Doubtless a German proverb.- Tr. The residence of the King's lieutenant in our house procured us the advantage of seeing, one after another, all the important persons of the French army, and especially of beholding, close at hand, the leaders whose names had already been brought to us by report. Thus, from stairs and landing-places, as if from galleries, we looked on very conveniently while the generals went by. Above all of them, I remember the Prince of Soubise as a handsome and affable man; but recall most distinctly the Maréchal de Broglie, as younger, not tall, but well-made, lively, and looking about him with keen-witted glances, and active in his movements. He came often to the King's lieutenant, and it was easy to observe that the conversation was on important matters. The first quarter of a year had hardly accustomed us to the intrusion of our guest, when the rumour began to spread obscurely that the Allies were marching forward, and Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick was coming to drive the French from the Maine. Of these, who could boast no great success in the war, there was no high opinion; and, since the battle of Rossbach, they were thought contemptible. There was the utmost reliance on Duke Ferdinand, and those inclined towards Prussia expected eagerly their deliverance from their actual burden. My father was somewhat more cheerful-my mother in anxiety. She had sense enough to see that a present small evil might easily be exchanged for a great vexation; for it was only too plain that they would not retire before the Duke, but give battle in the neighbourhood of the city. A defeat of the French, a flight, a defence of the city-were it but in order to cover the rear and hold the bridge-a bombardment, a sack-all rose before the excited imagination, and gave anxiety to both parties. My mother, who could bear every thing but anxiety, made the interpreter inform the Count of her apprehensions. She received the answer usual in such cases-She might be quite at ease, as there was no danger; and also must keep herself quiet, and speak to no one of the matter. Many troops passed through the city, and it was known that they halted at Berg. The coming and going, the riding and running, increased constantly, and our house was in uproar day and night. At this time I often saw Marshal Broglie, always cheerful, just the same in look and demeanour one time as another; and I was after wards glad to find a man celebrated in history, whose appearance had made so good and lasting an impression on me. Thus at last, after a restless EasterWeek, came on the Good Friday of 1759. A great stillness announced the approaching storm. Wechildren were forbidden to leave the house; but my father could not be quiet, and went out. The battle began; I went to the highest loft, whence, indeed, I was prevented seeing the country round, but could hear perfectly the thunder of the cannons, and the continuous fire of the small arms. After some hours we saw the first tokens of the battle in a line of waggons, on which the wounded, with their various woeful mutilations and aspects, were slowly drawn past us, and taken to the mo. nastery of St Mary, which had been turned into an hospital. The compassion of the citizens was immediately excited. Beer, wine, bread, money were handed to those who could still receive any thing. But when, some time after, wounded and captured Germans were seen in the procession, the pity passed all bounds, and it seemed that every one would strip himself of all his moveable property in order to assist his afflicted country men. red The prisoners, however, were signs of a battle unfavourable to the Allies. My father being quite certain, from his party feeling, that they would conquer, had the passionate daring to go to meet the hoped for victors, without considering that the beaten forces would necessarily beforehand pass over him in their flight. He went first to his garden in front of the Friedberg gate, where he found every thing in loneliness and quiet. Then he ventured to the Bornheim heath, where, however, he descried several scattered camp-followers, who amused themselves with shooting at the boundary stones, so that the rebounding balls whizzed about the head of the inquisitive wanderer. He therefore thought it more prudent to retire, and learned |