at the Frenchmen would be unbending
republicans."

"Yes," said Ludwig; "and they are humane, also. The vain and conceited
man is usually generous and communicative: he thinks he has so many
advantages that he is glad to bestow a share on others, and is annoyed
and almost angry if they do not care to accept his bounty; for he
considers their declining it as a want of belief in his superiority,
and is surprised to find that others do not hunger and thirst for the
things that he regards as delicacies."

The brothers became involved in all sorts of discussions, and, although
Richard was the younger of the two, he showed, in a certain patronizing
way, how pleased he was to find that the school of experience had
moderated Ludwig's views. For the brothers agreed on one point--that,
as there was no one church which could alone save mankind, so there was
no one form of government which could alone make all men free. After
all, everything depended on the honesty and the morality of the
citizen, and, for that reason, it could not be maintained that the
republican form of government was a guarantee of freedom, or that a
monarchy necessarily implied a condition of servitude.

The brothers now understood each other better than they had done in
former times.

Richard always occupied himself with general principles, while I can
only interest myself in particulars. The first question that I ask
myself is, How does the rule apply to this or that one? Richard is
different. He has no eye for isolated cases, but a far-seeing glance
where general principles are concerned. He looks upon everything from a
certain lofty historical point of view. He regards the hilly region in
which we live with the eye of an artist and a scientist, noticing the
elevations and the depressions, without giving a thought to the people
who dwell among them. He does not see the villages, much less a single
villager.

My experience with Richard solved a question which had always been a
riddle to me. He has no love for the people, and is, nevertheless, an
advocate of liberty. Until now, I could not understand how it was
possible; now it is clear to me.

Advocates of liberty are of two classes. The one class ask for it as a
logical necessity; the other are disappointed when the people, or
portions thereof, become obstinate or prove themselves unworthy of
freedom. The former have nothing to do with mankind, but simply busy
themselves with the idea of liberty, and