his genius,
I confessed to him my sentiments towards the Tyrolese, who were gaining
such a heroic crown--my confidence that he would show mildness and
forbearance, where his people were now giving way only to cruelty and
revenge--I asked him if the title 'Duke of the Tyrol' had not a nobler
sound than the names of the four kings who had united their power to
exterminate those heroes? And, however it turned out, I hoped he would
acquire from his conduct even the title of 'The Humane.'

"This was the contents of a letter that filled four pages. After writing
it in the most furious excitement, I sealed it very calmly, and gave it
into the music-master's hands, telling him--'This is something about the
Tyrolese that may be very useful to the Crown-prince.'

"How glad a man is to make himself of importance! Old Bopp nearly tumbled
down-stairs it his hurry to give such an interesting letter to the Prince;
and I, with my usual light-headedness, forgot all about it. I went to
Winter to sing hymns--to Tieck--to Jacobi--nowhere could I find any body to
agree with me; every where there seemed nothing but fear; and if they had
known what I had done, they would have forbidden me their houses. I looked
bitterly on them all, and thought--Be you Bavarian and French--I and the
Crown-prince are German and Tyrolese. Or he gets me put in prison--and
then I am at once free and independent; and if I ever get out again, I
will go over to the Tyrolese, and meet the Crown-prince on the field, and
force from him what he now refuses to my entreaty.

"The old music-master came back, pale and trembling.

"'What was there in the paper you gave me for the Crown-prince?' he said.
'It may ruin me for life. The Crown-prince looked excited as he read
it--ay, angry; and when he saw me there, he ordered me off without one
gracious word.'

"I could not help laughing. The music-master grew more and more anxious,
and I more and more delighted. I rejoiced already in my imprisonment; and
I thought how I could carry on my philosophic speculations in my solitude.
Once only I saw the Crown-prince at the theatre. He gave me a friendly
nod. Very good. For eight days I had not seen Stadion; but, on the 10th of
April, I got certain information that he had gone off by night. I was very
sorry to think I had seen him for the last time; and it struck me, with
strange significance, that he read his last mass on Good-Friday. At last
my long repressed and dissembled feel