lighted immediately on the 5th verse of the 110th Psalm.  As God wills—­it is all, to be sure, only a question of time, nations and people, folly and wisdom, war and peace; they come and go like waves of water, and the sea remains.  What are our states and their power and honor before God, except as ant-hills and bee-hives which the hoof of an ox tramples down, or fate, in the form of a honey-farmer, overtakes? * * * Farewell, my sweetheart, and learn to experience life’s folly in sadness; there is nothing in this world but hypocrisy and jugglery, and whether fever or grape-shot shall bear away this mass of flesh, fall it must, sooner or later, and then such a resemblance will appear between a Prussian and an Austrian, if they are of the same size, like Schrech and Rechberg, for example, that it will be difficult to distinguish between them; the stupid and the clever, too, properly reduced to the skeleton state, look a good deal like each other.  Patriotism for a particular country is destroyed by this reflection, but we should have to despair in any case, even now, were it linked with our salvation.  Farewell once more, with love to parents and children.  How impatient I am to see them!  As soon as Vriendschap—­so our vessel is called—­is in sight, I shall telegraph.  With love, as always,

Your most faithful VON B.

Paris, May 31, ’62.

My Dear Heart,—­Only a few lines in the press of business to tell you I am well, but very lonely, with a view out over the green, in this dull, rainy weather, while the bumble-bees hum and the sparrows twitter.  Grand audience tomorrow.  It’s vexatious that I have to buy linen, towels, table-cloths, and sheets. * * * Farewell.  Hearty love, and write!  Your most faithful v.B.

Paris, June 1, ’62.

My Dear Heart,—­The Emperor received me today, and I handed over my credentials; he received me kindly, is looking well, has grown somewhat stouter, but by no means fat and aged, as he generally is in caricatures.  The Empress is still one of the most beautiful women I know, in spite of Petersburg; she has, if anything, grown more beautiful in the past five years.  The whole affair was official, ceremonial; I was taken back in court-carriage with master of ceremonies, etc.  Next time I shall probably have a private audience.  I long for business, for I don’t know what to do with myself.  Today I dined alone, the young gentlemen were out; the entire evening rain; and at home alone.  To whom should I go?  In the midst of big Paris I am lonelier than you are at Reinfeld, and sit here like a rat in a deserted house.  The only pleasure I have had was sending the cook away because of overcharges.  You know my indulgence in this matter, but Rembours was a child in comparison.  I am dining for the present in a cafe.  How long that will last, God knows.  I shall probably receive a summons, by telegram, to Berlin, in eight or ten days, and then good-by to this song-and-dance.  If my opponents