autiful powerfully affected Otto's soul; only in
one direction had he shown no interest--in the political direction, and
it was precisely politics which had most occupied the grandfather in
his seclusion. But Otto's soul was too vivacious, too easily moved, too
easily carried away by what lay nearest him. "One must first thoroughly
enter into life, before the affairs of the world can seize upon us!"
said he. "With the greater number of those who in their early youth
occupy themselves with politics, it is merely affectation. It is with
them like the boy who forces himself to smoke tobacco so as to appear
older than he really is." Beyond his own country, France was the
only land which really interested Otto. Here Napoleon had ruled, and
Napoleon's name had reached his heart--he had grown up whilst this name
passed from mouth to mouth; the name and the deeds of the hero sounded
to him, yet a boy, like a great world adventure. How often had he heard
his grandfather, shaking his head, say, "Yes, now newspaper writers have
little to tell since Napoleon is quiet." And then he had related to
him of the hero at Arcole and among the Pyramids, of the great campaign
against Europe, of the conflagration at Moscow, and the return from
Elba.

Who has not written a play in his childhood? Otto's sole subject was
Napoleon; the whole history of the hero, from the snow-batteries at
Brienne to the rocky island in the ocean. True, this poem was a wild
shoot; but it had sprung from an enthusiastic heart. At that time he
preserved it as a treasure. A little incident which is connected with
it, and is characteristic of Otto's wild outbreaks of temper when a boy,
we will here introduce.

A child of one of the domestics, a little merry boy with whom Otto
associated a good deal, was playing with him in his garret. Otto was
then writing his play. The boy bantered him, pulling the paper at the
same time. Otto forbade him with the threat,--"If thou dost that again I
will throw thee out of the window!" The boy again immediately pulled at
the paper. In a moment Otto seized him by the waist, swung him toward
the open window, and would certainly have thrown him out, had not
Rosalie fortunately entered the room, and, with an exclamation of
horror, seized Otto's arm, who now stood pale as death and trembling in
every limb.

In this manner had Napoleon awoke Otto's interest for France. Rosalie
also spoke, next to her Switzerland, with most pleasure of th