One of the dissenters, having no fewer than
ten children, happened to be employed in the
police, and lost his place for his religion. To
get another existence this man competed to
rent the house of the shooters' company
belonging to the city, and therefore depending
on the city authorities. When the police
became aware of his intention, they managed
things with the corporation so, that he was
offered the house only if he would receive
the Lord's Supper out of the hands of the
most fanatical parson of the state church.
The poor man, having no other hope of
supporting his large family, was weak enough
to comply; but he was afterwards very much
troubled in his mind; wretched for life in fact.

A young respectable girl, having a very large
connection as a seamstress, against whom no
one in Königsberg could say a word, belonged
to the dissenters; and, not being a native of
Königsberg, although of Prussia, was ordered
to leave the city in a fortnight. The girl,
whose nimble fingers supported an old mother,
was not base enough to disown her faith, and
prepared weepingly to leave her friends and
her snug, although humble position. However
she was not only clever and good, but pretty,
and a young master-joiner offered her his hand.
She accepted him at once. There was no time
for simpering; a fortnight with three Sundays
being just sufficient to fulfil the requisites of
the law. The night before the day she was
ordered to leave her home, the Reverend Mr.
Rupp performed the marriage service, and
they sat joyously at supper, laughing at the
police; for now, being the bride of a citizen
of Königsberg, she was legally a denizen of that
city. A loud knock was heard at the door.
Police entered, and one of them said, "This
assembly is dissolved!" This interruption
was disagreeable; but so ludicrous that
everybody was amused. The bridegroom
said, "Well, good night, friends—sorry for
the good victuals, but they might dissolve as
much as they like; this society" (he took
the hand of his bride) "I think shall never be
dissolved; neither by any policeman nor by
any other functionary, whether in blue or in
black."

With this dissolving of assemblies the
police annoyed the dissenters most. Some
of them had little meetings to take tea and
read the German classics. Almost always
they were disturbed by policemen dissolving
the assembly; sometimes followed by soldiers
with their muskets and bayonets. The
next day, each member of this circle was
summoned before the police and reproved.
Remonstrance was useless; and, when they
at last asked the president of the police
to give them a definition of a prohibited
assembly, (for they had no idea why the
government should prohibit every tea party,)
he told them their meeting was not to be
taken for a tea party, but for an assembly;
because the different persons forming it were
neither friends nor neighbours, nor relations,
nor of the same station in life. When
the Reverend Mr. Rupp once invited some
poor people of his congregation to a public
garden, to keep holiday there, he was
reproved by the police. He remonstrated,
and said these persons had been his guests.
He was answered rudely, that they were low
people and no society for him. Mr. Rupp
took out his Bible, and read a passage in
St. Luke, in which something was said about
not inviting the rich, who could give dinners
in return, but the poor and needy. The
magistrate looked confused, and Mr. Rupp
escaped, unfined.

Even children-gardens were forbid by the
police, and an assembly of babies, from three
to five years old, was once dissolved. The
little ones did not know the way home; for it
was not yet time to be fetched by the
servants of their parents; and, when the police
asked them the names of their fathers,
they answered, "Papa." Then the little
lambs were seen walking with the wolves,
quite confidently, about the streets, inquiring
where they did belong to.

Such dissenters as belonged to official
families were persecuted most. The
Lieut.-Colonel von L., who died in the year eighteen
hundred and forty-eight, left two orphan girls,
without a penny. However, the younger
sister had the expectancy of a place as
canonesse in a foundation for spinsters of noble
birth, which had been restored and richly
bestowed by the late grandfather of the
young lady; who was a very rich man. The
elder of the two sisters got, after much ado,
a small pension from the government, by the
interest of the minister of Auerswald, who
was connected with the family. Angelina,
the younger sister, while expecting her
canonesse-place, tried to get her livelihood by
giving lessons in French, and writing books
for young people. Heaven blessed her brave
endeavours: she got a situation at a school,
and many private lessons. She had, indeed, so
much to do, that almost her only recreation
was to visit the religious congregations of
the dissenters, to hear Mr. Rupp.

Thus she went on very well till the year
eighteen hundred and fifty-two; when it was
ordered by Polizei-President Peters that
Miss von L. should forbear giving any lessons;
secondly it was decreed that Miss Leo, the
mistress of the school, should dismiss Miss A.
von L. directly, and without any fuss
(geraeuschlos); thirdly, Miss von L. was to leave
Königsberg, and informed that the interdict
to give any lessons applied to the whole
Prussian monarchy.

In vain the unhappy lady tried the law,—
nay, wrote even twice to the king,
complaining of the wrongs practised on her.
She was answered by the Minister of the
Interior, that all the proceedings against
her had been strictly lawful. Notwithstanding,
Miss von L. tried to give lessons in
Danzig, where the first magistrate was a