the energy of a man of twenty-five, and he was well over middle age when he was in Paris.  They were quite exhausted sometimes after a long day of visits and sightseeing with him.  He was an early riser.  One of the first rendezvous he gave W. was at nine o’clock in the morning, which greatly disturbed that gentleman’s habits.  He was never an early riser, worked always very late (said his best despatches were written after midnight), and didn’t care about beginning his day too early.  Another interesting personality was Mommsen, the German historian and savant.  He was a picturesque-looking old man with keen blue eyes and a quantity of white hair.  I don’t think anything modern interested him very much.  He was an old man when I first saw him, and looked even older than his age.  He and W. used to plunge into very long, learned discussions over antiquities and medals.  W. said the hours with Mommsen rested him, such a change from the “shop” talk always mixed with politics in France.

We often had political breakfasts at home (more breakfasts than dinners).  Our Aisne deputies and senators were not very mondains, didn’t care much to dine out.  They were pleasant enough when they talked about subjects that interested them.  Henri Martin, senator of the Aisne, was an old-fashioned Republican, absolutely convinced that no other government would ever succeed in France, but he was moderate.  St. Vallier, also a senator from the Aisne, was nervous and easily discouraged when things didn’t go smoothly, but he too thought the Republic was the only possible government now, whatever his preferences might have been formerly.

W.’s ministry came to an end on the famous 16th of May, 1877, when Marshal MacMahon suddenly took matters in his own hands and dismissed his cabinet presided over by M. Jules Simon.  Things had not been going smoothly for some time, could not between two men of such absolute difference of origin, habits, and ideas.  Still, the famous letter written by the marshal to Jules Simon was a thunderclap.  I was walking about the Champs-Elysees and Faubourg St. Honore on the morning of the 16th of May, and saw all the carriages, our own included, waiting at the Ministry of the Interior, where the conseil was sitting.  I went home to breakfast, thought W. was later than usual, but never dreamed of what was happening.  When he finally appeared, quite composed and smiling, with his news, “We are out of office; the marshal has sent us all about our business,” I could hardly believe it, even when he told me all the details.  I had known for a long time that things were not going well, but there were always so much friction and such opposing elements in the cabinet that I had not attached much importance to the accounts of stormy sittings and thought things would settle down.

[Illustration:  Theodor Mommsen.  From a painting by Franz von Lenbach.]