Seeing then that Necessity had got us in the dilemma of either manufacturing passports ourselves or not entering Strasburg, we took the former branch of the alternative and manufactured one;--in which feat, the Prussian arms, which I had on my seal, were marvellously furthersome." This is a fact, as the old Newspapers and confirmatory Fassmann more directly apprise us.

"The Landlord [or Postmaster] at Kehl, having signified that there was no crossing without Passport," Friedrich, at first, somewhat taken aback, bethought him of his watch-seal with the Royal Arms on it; and soon manufactured the necessary Passport, signeted in due form;--which, however, gave a suspicion to the Innkeeper as to the quality of his Guest.

After which, Tuesday evening, 23d August, "they at once got across to Strasburg," says my Newspaper Friend, "and put up at the SIGN OF THE RAVEN, there." Or in Friedrich's own jingle:-- "We arrived at Strasburg; and the Custom-house corsair, with his inspectors, seemed content with our evidences.
These scoundrels spied us, With one eye reading our passport, With the other ogling our purse.
Gold, which was always a resource, Which brought, Jove to the enjoyment Of Danae whom he caressed; Gold, by which Caesar governed The world happy under his sway; Gold, more a divinity than Mars or Love; Wonder-working Gold introduced us That evening, within the walls of Strasburg." [Given thus far, with several slight errors, in Voltaire, ii.
24-26;--the remainder, long unknown, had to be fished up, patch by patch (Preuss, _OEuvres de Frederic,_ xiv.

159-161).] Ces scelerats nous epiaient, D'un oeil le passe-port lisaient, De l'autre lorgnaient notre bourse.
L'or, qui toujours fut de ressource, Par lequel Jupin jouissait De Danae, qu'il caressait; L'or, par qui Cesar gouvernait Le monde heureux sous son empire; L'or, plus dieu que Mars et l'Amour, Le soir, dans les murs de Strasbourg.
Sad doggerel; permissible perhaps as a sample of the Friedrich manufacture, surely not otherwise! There remains yet more than half of it; readers see what their foolish craving has brought upon them! Doggerel out of which no clear story, such story as there is, can be had; though, except the exaggeration and contortion, there is nothing of fiction in it.

We fly to the Newspaper, happily at least a prose composition, which begins at this point; and shall use the Doggerel henceforth as illustration only or as repetition in the Friedrich-mirror, of a thing OTHERWISE made clear to us:-- Having got into Strasburg and the RAVEN HOTEL; Friedrich now on French ground at last, or at least on Half-French, German-French, is intent to make the most of circumstances.