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[84] repeated it word for word. The professors concealed first their indignation and then their mirth and contempt, as well as they could, but still both were visible, and the little tyrant was put beside himself by it. ‘Do not think,’ said he, ‘that I am ignorant of the disaffection in Gottingen, or that it will escape unpunished. You flatter yourselves that I shall lose my throne, but you are mistaken. As long as my brother sits on the throne of France, so long I shall be your king, and I will use my power to punish your ingratitude. The University shall be remodelled,—it shall be a French University. I will have French professors,—men of virtue and patriotism,’ etc., etc.

After a considerable tirade like this, his Majesty returned to Cassel, and Eichhorn, in the next number of the University's Review,—which he conducts,—gave a side-blow at ‘the never-to-be-forgotten speech of his Most Gracious,’ etc., for which, but that the Cossacks stopped all heart-burnings a week later, he might have lost his head.

This is the only time the privileges of the University have been in danger, and Jerome was such a weak and uncertain little blockhead that he would probably never have had resolution and constancy enough to execute his threat. Since I have been here, everything has been as still as if it were one vast monastery, except that about five thousand of the Russian Guards marched through the city, three weeks ago, and made a beautiful show, and gave me a splendid proof of the fidelity of Burger's description of the march of an army in ‘Lenore,’ with horns and cymbals, etc.

The life here would in many respects suit you remarkably well. There is a regularity, evenness, and calmness, which are fitted to one who was almost made to be a hermit, and, at the same time, a freedom which is absolutely necessary to one who never was and never will be quite patient under family government. All that is wanting is a few friends and a little more variety. . . . Remember me to your brother William, and to my old master, and don't let your sister Susan's children forget me.

Yours affectionately,

Geo. T.

To E. Ticknor.

Gottingen, December 17, 1815.
. . . . No change has taken place in my condition or circumstances, dear father, since I wrote last. The only thing which has happened, which does not happen every day, is, that Everett and myself have been taken into the only club in Gottingen, and, of course, you will


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