first glance. They proved it when, to stand by their convictions,
they put themselves and their families at the mercy of a problematical
future; and when, in advanced years, they undertook the gigantic work of
compiling so large and profound a German dictionary. Jakob looked as if
nothing could bend him; Wilhelm as if, though equally strong, he might
yield out of love.

And what a fascinating, I might almost say childlike, amiability was
united to manliness in both characters! Yes, theirs was indeed that
sublime simplicity which genius has in common with the children whom
the Saviour called to him. It spoke from the eyes whose gaze was
so searching, and echoed in their language which so easily mastered
difficult things, though when they condescended to play with their
children and with us, and jested so naively, we were half tempted to
think ourselves the wiser.

But we knew with what intellectual giants we had to do; no one had
needed to tell us that, at least; and when they called me to them I felt
as if the king himself had honoured me.

Only Wilhelm was married, and his wife had hardly her equal for sunny
and simple kindness of heart. A pleasanter, more motherly, sweeter
matron I never met.

Hermann, who won good rank as a poet, and was one of the very foremost
of our aesthetics, was much older than we. The tall young man, who often
walked as if he were absorbed in thought, seemed to us a peculiar and
unapproachable person. His younger brother, Rudolf, on the other hand,
was a cheery fellow, whose beauty and brightness charmed me unspeakably.
When he came along with elastic tread as if he were challenging life to
a conflict, and I saw him spring up the stairs three steps at a time,
I was delighted, and I knew that my mother was very fond of him. It was
just the same with "Gustel," his sister, who was as amiable and kindly
as her mother.

I can still see the torchlight procession with which the Berlin students
honoured the beloved and respected brothers, and which we watched from
the Grimms' windows because they were higher than ours. But there is
a yet brighter light of fire in my memory. It was shed by the burning
opera house. Our mother, who liked to have us participate in anything
remarkable which might be a recollection for life, took us out of our
beds to the next house, where the Seiffarts lived, and which had a
little tower on it. Thence we gazed in admiration at the ever-deepening
glow of the sky, towa