"That is exactly what I have always felt!" exclaimed the king; "they talk so much in Germany of public life, and yet they understand nothing of it, since they are not capable of meeting a political foe on neutral ground, as a gentleman.--Were you at the opera yesterday?" he asked, changing the subject.
"No," replied Meding; "but Schladebach told me he was much dissatisfied, and that he should write a severe criticism."
"He is right," said the king. "I shall be anxious to read his critique; Doctor Schladebach has a fine appreciation of art, and much tact in expressing his opinion. If we could but find an equally good critic for the theatre!"
"I am exerting myself to find such a critic," said Meding; "but I must still beg your Majesty's patience. Talent is not easily found, nor quickly formed."
"True, true," said the king, "chi va piano va sano; but I hope we may find a critic of real talent. It is indispensable for any form of art, if it is really to flourish, and to fulfil its grand mission. And now adieu, my dear Meding, go with God's help, and with much friendship on my part, to the Prince of Hesse. Come back soon!"
"God bless you!"
Meding and Lex left the cabinet.
George V. remained alone.
For a time he sat quietly in his chair, his eyes fixed on the table.
"It is too true--it is too true," he said at last in a low tone; "the great conflict draws near. The German confederacy, which has been so beneficial, and which for fifty years has maintained peace in Germany and in Europe, cracks in all its parts, and will break up in the mighty struggle. The only hand that could have calmed this mighty uproar with a sign rests in the grave. The emperor Nicholas is no longer here to grasp the rolling wheel of fate with his strong hand. And weight on weight is heaped upon me, now by one, then by the other side; where shall I turn? how shall I save the fair, rich, and faithful land which God has entrusted to me, and which has been bound to my ancestors for a thousand years in joy and woe?"