Von Tausch is typical of the German service of internal espionage; there is nothing romantic about his work, nothing that is worthy of memory or that shows him in other than a detestable light--and yet the German Courts are constantly under such supervision as he maintained, and with the full concurrence and encouragement of Wilhelm, who believes in vigilance at the cost of honour and of everything that normal men hold as compatible with honour. The private diary of Louise of Saxony has details of the pettiness and meanness of these agents of discord and destroyers of confidence among the highest personages of German Courts. "The King's spy," says the diary, "constituted herself post office of Villa Foschwitz--a duty appertaining to her rank, and I wager that she works the black cabinet to perfection. [_Cabinet noir_. The secret-service headquarters of the German post office.] Of course, I am now careful in all that I write, and advise my friends to be. The spy planted in my household has been permitted to see much of the innocent correspondence passing between me and Leopold. She has reported that I have turned over a new leaf. Result: my debts have been paid. Further result: a gracious letter from the King's House Marshal praising me for the good influence I am exercising over Leopold. Truly, the world wants to be deceived." Another extract states: "Caught the Tisch stealing one of my letters. Happily there was nothing incriminating in it, though addressed to Ferdinand--just the letter the Crown Princess would write to a Privy Councillor. But the petty theft indicates that she suspects. Prince George, I am told, receives a report from her every day." The note of the diary emphasises the littleness of life that permits of the existence of such a system as this, a perpetual sowing of discord by means of the repetition of tittle-tattle which can have no real bearing on affairs of moment. The lady designated "Tisch," by the way, was but a clumsy exponent of her art, for, discovering that her royal mistress kept a diary, she reported the fact to Frederick, Louise's husband, who taxed his wife with the existence of the diary and its indiscretions. Thereupon Louise turned upon the Tisch, and informed her that, since she was planted in the royal household for the purpose of playing the serpent, she must confine her work to reporting on comings and goings, on external conduct, so far as Louise herself was concerned.