its field of
action, its struggle against enemies, its history. The German has
nothing for which to battle, and when he began to realize that there
might be things worth striving for, his philosophizing wiseacres taught
him to doubt the existence of such things. It cannot be denied that the
Germans love liberty, but it is in a different manner from other people.
The Englishman loves liberty as his lawful wife, and, even if he does
not treat her with remarkable tenderness, he is still ready in case of
need to defend her like a man, and woe to the red-coated rascal who
forces his way to her bedroom--let him do so as a gallant or as a
catchpoll. The Frenchman loves liberty as his bride. He burns for her;
he is a flame; he casts himself at her feet with the most extravagant
protestations; he will fight for her to the death; he commits for her
sake a thousand follies. The German loves liberty as though she were his
old grandmother."

Men are strange beings! We grumble in our Fatherland; every stupid
thing, every contrary trifle, vexes us there; like boys, we are always
longing to rush forth into the wide world, and, when we finally find
ourselves there, we find it too wide, and often yearn in secret for the
narrow stupidities and contrarieties of home. Yes, we would fain be
again in the old chamber, sitting behind the familiar stove, making for
ourselves, as it were, a "cubby-house" near it, and, nestling there,
read the _German General Advertiser_. So it was with me in my journey to
England. Scarcely had I lost sight of the German shore ere there awoke
in me a curious after-love for the German nightcaps and forest-like wigs
which I had just left in discontent; and when the Fatherland faded from
my eyes I found it again in my heart. And, therefore, it may be that
my voice quivered in a somewhat lower key as I replied to the sallow
man--"Dear sir, do not scold the Germans! If they are dreamers, still
many of them have conceived such beautiful dreams that I would hardly
incline to change them for the waking realities of our neighbors. Since
we all sleep and dream, we can perhaps dispense with freedom; for our
tyrants also sleep, and only dream their tyranny. We awoke only
once--when the Catholic Romans robbed us of our dream-freedom; then we
acted and conquered, and laid us down again and dreamed. O sir! do not
mock our dreamers, for now and then they speak, like somnambulists,
wondrous things in sleep, and their words become