part of their bodies like puppets, and the German alone sits still like
a man--man and horse are one as with the Hungarians.

The royal oak, the favourite tree of our fathers, requires centuries for
its full developement, and so long do we also require. The oak is a
fairer symbol of the German nation than the German postboy, from which
original most foreigners appear to judge of us. A postilion in the
north, however, is the true representative of Phlegma. Bad or good
roads, bad or good weather, bad or good horses and coach, curses or
flattery from the traveller--nothing moves him if his pipe-stump be but
smoking, and his schnaps paid.

The hereditary enemy of our neighbours is levity, ours heaviness. In the
ancient bass-fiddle, Europe, the thickest string is the German, with
deep tone and heavy vibration; but once in vibration, it hums as if it
would go on humming for an eternity. Our primitive ancestors deliberated
on every thing twice--in drunkenness, and in sobriety; and then they
acted. But we, with the most honest and slowest spirit of order--which
might, without danger, be spared many _reglemens_--we lost all
elasticity, and sank dismembered into a stupid spirit of slavery, which
originated in our passion for imitation, our faintheartedness, and our
uncommonly low opinion of ourselves, which often looks like true dog
humility. This humility the French have in view, when if naughtily
treated by their superiors, by the police, &c., they cry out "Est ce
qu'on me prend pour un Allemand?" The Englishman is fond of being
represented as a John Bull, but John Bull pushes about him. We, however,
are personified by the German _Michel_, who puts up with a touch on the
posterior, and still asks, "What's your pleasure?"

Voltaire sang of the Marechal de Saxe:--