We passed the summer of 1846 at Munich, we—that is my mother, my brother Charles, and my sister—having taken a clean and comfortable lodging kept by a Frenchman in the Promenade Gasse. Our life here was most enjoyable; the inseparable companionship of my brother Charles was to me a source of untold delight. Our pursuits and pleasures were all in common; we studied the German language together under the tuition of a well-read and accomplished master, and gained great proficiency by our almost daily visits to the theatre. I say daily, because the performance began at an early hour, and often ended before the daylight had waned, leaving us at liberty to accompany my mother in her evening drive, or to spend some hours at a friend’s house before retiring to rest. The dramatic performances—which comprised many of the masterpieces of Schiller, Kotzebue and Iffland, and other eminent writers—were very well given, and the principal actor and actress of the day were a very handsome and talented couple of the name of Dahl. He took the leading part in such characters as Karl von Moor, in _The Robbers_, and the like, while his pretty wife showed to great advantage in the heroines of the same pieces, and was very much admired, especially by the king, Ludwig of Bavaria, on whom the charms of female beauty were never thrown away. The tragedies and comedies at the theatres were alternated with opera by both German and Italian composers, and Charles and I seldom missed an evening in the box which was kindly placed at our disposal by the Sardinian Minister. We became also zealous students of art in our daily visits to the painting and sculpture galleries of that city of treasures, known by the names of Pinacothek and Glyptothek. We passed most of our mornings in these two museums, where the paintings are well arranged to mark the progress of the art, and where every facility is afforded for the study of the different schools and different periods. I think, before I left Munich I knew every statue and picture by heart. Whatever King Louis’ failings may have been, he was certainly a benefactor to his capital, encouraging art and artists of all degrees, painters, architects, musicians—a builder of palaces, of churches, a patron of the coloured glass for which Munich was so distinguished in his day, and to which was due a revived taste for painted windows in every part of Europe. [Sidenote: LOUIS OF BAVARIA] The king’s own palace was decorated by frescoes representing scenes from the “Niebelungen Lied,” and other subjects both of history and fiction by such well-known artists as Cornelius and Kaulbach, while two rooms were set apart for the portraits of contemporary beauties. Not a few of these were rather of a shady reputation, but then there was a sprinkling of homely-featured Royalties and other exemplary members of society, designed to lend a respectable colouring to the whole.