Richard, on the other hand, had a very good opinion of the French. He told us that about the time he was working in the library at Paris, he had travelled much through France, and had made the acquaintance of Frenchmen of every station in life.
"The French are industrious and temperate, and a people of whom that can be said, has a noble destiny awaiting it. They have a great desire to please, which makes them agreeable, and gives all their work the impress of good taste. They are fond of all that partakes of the decorative, whether it be a glittering phrase or a badge. If that which, from its very nature, ought to be general, could gain distinction for them--if there could be an aristocracy in republican virtue, I cannot help believing that 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 are, for that reason, more positive and exacting and less given to fine talk.
Formerly, Richard had been dissatisfied with all of Ludwig's actions and opinions. He was opposed to all that was violent; but now Richard had become the more liberal, and Ludwig the more conservative, of the two. It was in America, where the tendency seemed towards a loosening of all restraint, that Ludwig had for the first time learned to attach importance to the preservation of established institutions. While they were yet children under the instructions of Pastor Genser, who afterward became my son-in-law, the two boys had given much of their time to music. To listen to Richard playing the violincello and Ludwig playing the piano, was one of the greatest pleasures that our household afforded Gustava and myself.
Ludwig has given up music, and they can now no longer play together. But when I heard them talking in unrestrained converse, and observed how the one transposed the mood and the thoughts of the other into his own key, and developed it, adding new combinations of ideas; and when I noticed how the eye of either speaker would, from time to time, rest upon the other with a joyful expression, it seemed yet more beautiful and more grateful to my heart than any music could be. And withal, each temperament preserved its own melody. Richard looked forward for some event that would mark a turning-point in the affairs of men, or for the advent of some great man, to utter the command, "Come, and follow me." Ludwig added that liberation could only be brought about by one who possessed a cool head and a firm hand, so that, without swerving a hair's breadth to either side, he could put in the knife where it was needed.