resemble young students; when these have made their examen artium
they imagine they are equal to the whole world: they grow restive, and
give student-feasts! The French must have a Napoleon, who can give
their something to do! If they be left to themselves they will play mad
pranks!"

"Let us first see what the papers really say," replied Otto.

The following day a large letter arrived; it was from Wilhelm:--

"My excellent Otto,--We have all drunk to Otto Thostrup's health. I
raised the glass, and drank the health. The friendship's dissonance YOU
has dissolved itself into a harmonious THOU, and thou thyself hast given
the accord. All at home speak of thee; even the Kammerjunker's Mamsell
chose lately thee, and not her work-box, as a subject of conversation.
The evening as thou drovest over the Jutland heaths I seated myself at
the piano, and played thy whole journey to my sisters. The journey over
the heath I gave them in a monotonous piece, composed of three tones,
quite dissimilar to that composed by Rousseau. My sisters were near
despair; but I told them it was not more uninteresting than the heath.
Sometimes I made a little flight, a quaver; that was the heath-larks
which flew up into the air. The introduction to the gypsy-chorus in
'Preciosa' signified the German gypsy-flock. Then came the thema out of
'Jeannot and Collin'--'O, joyous days of childhood!'--and then thou wast
at home. I thundered powerfully down in the bass; that was the North
Sea, the chorus in thy present grand' opera. Thou canst well imagine
that it was quite original.

"For the rest, everything at home remains in its old state. I have been
in Svendborg, and have set to music that sweet poem, 'The Wishes,' by
Carl Bagger. His verses seem to me a little rough; but something will
certainly come out of the fellow! Thy own wishes are they which he has
expressed. Besides this, the astonishing tidings out of France have
given us, and all good people here, an electrical shock. Yes, thou in
thy solitude hast certainly heard nothing of the brilliant July days.
The Parisians have deposed Charles X. If the former Revolution was
a blood-fruit, this one is a true passionflower, suddenly sprung up,
exciting astonishment through its beauty, and as soon as the work
is ended rolling together its leaves. My cousin Joachim, who as thou
knowest is just now at Paris, has lived through these extraordinary
days. The day before yesterday we received a long, interest