with the theologians:  one Dr. Benner of Giessen, in particular, wrote against him.  Von Loen rejoined; the contest grew violent and personal, and the unpleasantness which arose from it caused him to accept the office of president at Lingen, which Frederick II. offered him; supposing that he was an enlightened, unprejudiced man, and not averse to the new views that more extensively obtained in France.  His former countrymen, whom he had left in some displeasure, averred that he was not contented there, nay, could not be so, as a place like Lingen was not to be compared with Frankfort.  My father also doubted whether the president would be happy, and asserted that the good uncle would have done better not to connect himself with the king, as it was generally hazardous to get too near him, extraordinary sovereign as he undoubtedly was; for it had been seen how disgracefully the famous Voltaire had been arrested in Frankfort, at the requisition of the Prussian Resident Freitag, though he had formerly stood so high in favor, and had been regarded as the king’s teacher in French poetry.  There was, on such occasions, no want of reflections and examples to warn one against courts and princes’ service, of which a native Frankforter could scarcely form a conception.

An excellent man, Dr. Orth, I will only mention by name; because here I have not so much to erect a monument to the deserving citizens of Frankfort, but rather refer to them only in as far as their renown or personal character had some influence upon me in my earliest years.  Dr. Orth was a wealthy man, and was also of that number who never took part in the government, although perfectly qualified to do so by his knowledge and penetration.  The antiquities of Germany, and more especially of Frankfort, have been much indebted to him:  he published remarks on the so-called “Reformation of Frankfort,” a work in which the statutes of the state are collected.  The historical portions of this book I diligently read in my youth.

Von Ochsenstein, the eldest of the three brothers whom I have mentioned above as our neighbors, had not been remarkable during his lifetime, in consequence of his recluse habits, but became the more remarkable after his death, by leaving behind him a direction that common workingmen should carry him to the grave, early in the morning, in perfect silence, and without an attendant or follower.  This was done; and the affair caused great excitement in the city, where they were accustomed to the most pompous funerals.  All who discharged the customary offices on such occasions rose against the innovation.  But the stout patrician found imitators in all classes; and, though such ceremonies were derisively called ox-burials,[Footnote:  A pun upon the name of Ochsenstein.—­ Trans.] they came into fashion, to the advantage of many of the more poorly provided families; while funeral parades were less and less in vogue.  I bring forward this circumstance, because it presents one of the earlier symptoms of that tendency to humility and equality, which, in the second half of the last century, was manifested in so many ways, from above downward, and broke out in such unlooked-for effects.