My entrance had interrupted a conversation, which Strauss presently resumed, and which proved to be on the eternal topic of politics. His voice was strong and deep, but he spoke (and it seemed to be a habit with him) in a subdued tone, and with a very decided Wurtemberg accent. I was surprised at some of the high-Tory opinions to which he gave utterance. I had not expected to find the author of the _Leben Jesu_ on the Conservative side of any question. It seemed inconsistent. But I recollected that the man was now on the wrong side of forty; and I could not help thinking that if, instead of publishing his destructive book at the age of twenty-seven, he had waited with it till now, he might possibly have postponed it altogether. At table, our talk was of the usual commonplace description; and it may be worth while observing, that even Strauss could be commonplace with as good a grace as any. Our host and he had, it seems, been fellow-students together, and, of course, there was no want of anecdotes and reminiscences of those early days, all of which appeared to give him exquisite pleasure. In particular, I remember that he spoke with much fervor of the fine mountain scenery in the neighborhood of Heidelberg; and when a friendly discussion arose amongst us as to whether the mountains or the ocean were the sublimer spectacle, Strauss argued warmly in favor of the former. Some one (myself, I believe) happening to say that, like Goethe and Schiller, they were both _superlative_, and not to be _compared_--"Bravo!" cried Strauss, and good humoredly gave up his position. The conversation now naturally turned upon Goethe, and upon all the localities in and about Weimar, connected with his memory. Like a pious pilgrim, as he was, Strauss, as I found, had already been to all these places, with the exception of the garden-house and garden. It was proposed to conduct him thither immediately.