The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume X Part 5

Erfurt, April 23, '50.

_My Darling_,-- * * * We shall probably be released a week from today, and then we have before us a quiet Schonhausen summer, as the cry of war is also dying. It is really going to be summer again, and on a very long walk, from which I am returning home dead tired, I took much pleasure in the small green leaves of the hazel and white beech, and heard the cuckoo, who told me that we shall live together for eleven years more; let us hope longer still. My hunt was extraordinary; charming wild pine-woods on the ride out, sky-high, as in the Erzgebirge; then, on the other side, steep valleys, like the Selke, only the hills were much higher, with beeches and oaks. The night before starting I had slept but four hours; then went to bed at nine o'clock in Schleusingen on the south side of the Thuringian wood; arose at midnight; that evening I had eaten freely of the trout and had drunk weak beer with them; at one o'clock we rode to a forge in the mountains, where ghostlike people poked the fire; then we climbed, without stopping, until three o 'clock, in pouring rain, I wearing a heavy overcoat; so steep that I had to help myself with my hands; so dark in the fir thickets that I could touch the huntsman ahead of me with my hand, but could not see him. Then, too, we were told there is a precipice on the right, and the torrent sent up its roar from the purple depths below; or that there is a pool on the left, and the path was slippery. I had to halt three times; repeatedly I almost fainted from weakness, lay down on the dripping heath, and let the rain pour on me. But I was firmly resolved to see the grouse; and I did see several, but could not shoot them, for reasons which one must be a huntsman to understand. My companion shot one, and, if I had been well, I might have shot two; I was too exhausted. After three it cleared and became wonderfully fine, the horn-owl gave place to the thrush, and at sunrise the bird-chorus became deafening; the wood-pigeons singing ba.s.s, withal. At five I was down again, and, as it began to pour once more, I abandoned further attempts, returned hither, ate very heartily, after a twenty-four hours' fast, and drank two gla.s.ses of champagne, then slept for fourteen hours, until yesterday at one o'clock, noon, and now I am feeling much better than before the excursion, and am glad of the good const.i.tution which G.o.d has given me, to get through it all. * * * I send you lots of love, my heart, and will piously celebrate fast-day tomorrow at the Wermel church. G.o.d preserve you. Love to mother and Melissa. Excuse my haste.

I had really left myself an hour of leisure, but that little old Ma.s.s has his fourteenth child, just born. The only son of our poor Eglofstein, of Arklitten, twenty-three-year-old lieutenant of cuira.s.siers, has shot himself in hypochondria; I pity the father extremely, a devout, honorable man.

Your most faithful

v.B.

Schonhausen, Sunday Evening.

(Postmarked Jerichow, September 30, '50.)

_My Beloved Nan_,-- * * * I regained possession of my things in Berlin at some cost, after twenty-four hours had elapsed; when I left, the unfortunate Jew had not yet claimed his. Partly on my account and partly on Hans', we had to stay in Berlin two days, but this time the bill was more reasonable. * * * May the devil take politics! Here I found everything as we left it, only the leaves show the rosiness of autumn; flowers are almost more plentiful than in summer; Kahle has a particular fondness for them, and on the terrace fabulous pumpkins are suspended by their vines from the trees. The pretty plums are gone; only a few blue ones still remain; of the vine, only the common green variety is ripe; next week I shall send you some grapes. I have devoured so many figs today that I was obliged to drink rum, but they were the last. I am sorry you cannot see the Indian corn; it stands closely packed, three feet higher than I can reach with my hand; the colts' pasture looks from a distance like a fifteen-year-old pine preserve. I am sitting here at your desk, a crackling fire behind me, and Odin, rolled into a knot, by my side. * * * Mamsell received me in pink, with a black dancing-jacket; the children in the village ridicule her swaggering about her n.o.ble and rich relations. She has cooked well again today, but, as to the feeding of the cattle, Bellin laments bitterly that she understands nothing about it, and pays no attention to it, and she is also said to be uncleanly; the Bellin woman does not eat a mouthful prepared by her. Her father is a common cottager and laborer; I can easily understand that she is out of place there, with her grand airs and pink dresses. Up to this time the garden, outside of Kahle's keep, has cost one hundred and three rix-dollars this year, and between now and Christmas forty to fifty will probably be added for digging and harvesting, besides the fuel.

The contents of the greenhouse I shall try to have care of in the neighborhood; that is really the most difficult point, and still one cannot continue keeping the place for the sake of the few oranges. I am giving out that you will spend the winter in Berlin, that in the summer-time we intend going to a watering-place again, and that, therefore, we are giving up housekeeping for a year. * * * Hearty love to our parents. I shall celebrate father's birthday with you, like a Conservative, in the old style. May the merciful G.o.d, for His Son's sake, preserve you and the children. Farewell, my dear Nan.

Your v.B.

Since leaving Reinfeld I no longer have heartburn; perhaps it is in my heart, and my heart has remained with Nan.

Schonhausen, October 1, '50.

_My Angel_,--I am so anxious that I can hardly endure being here; I have the most decided inclination to inform the government at once of my resignation, let the dike go, and proceed to Reinfeld. I expected to have a letter from you today, but nothing except stupid police matters. Do write very, very often, even if it takes one hundred rix-dollars postage. I am always afraid that you are sick, and today I am in such a mood that I should like to foot it to Pomerania. I long for the children, for mammy and dad, and, most of all, for you, my darling, so that I have no peace at all. Without you here, what is Schonhausen to me? The dreary bedroom, the empty cradles with the little beds in them, all the absolute silence, like an autumn fog, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock and the periodic falling of the chestnuts--it is as though you all were dead. I always imagine your next letter will bring bad news, and if I knew it was in Genthin by this time I would send Hildebrand there in the night. Berlin is endurable when one is alone; there one is busy, and can chatter all day; but here it is enough to drive one mad; I must formerly have been an entirely different mortal, to bear it as I did. * * * The girl received the notice to leave very lightly and good-naturedly, as quite a matter of course; Kahle, on the other hand, was beside himself, and almost cried; said he could not find a place at Christmas-time, and would go to the dogs, as he expressed it. I consoled him by promising to pay his wages for another quarter if he failed to find a place by New Year's. The girl is quite useless except in cooking, of which more orally. I cannot enumerate all the little trifles, and certainly Kahle does not belong to the better half of gardeners. * * * I feel so vividly as if I were with you while writing this that I am becoming quite gay, until I again recollect the three hundred and fifty miles, including one hundred and seventy-five without a railroad. Pomerania is terribly long, after all. Have you my Kulz letter, too? Bernhard has probably kept it in his pocket. Do not prepay your letters, or they will be stolen. Innumerable books have arrived from the binder; he claims one section of Scott's _Pirate_ is missing; I know nothing about it. The tailor says that he has been able to make only five pair of drawers from the stuff; presumably he is wearing the sixth himself. Farewell, my sweetheart. Write as often as you can, and give love and kisses to every one from me, large and small. May G.o.d's mercy be with you.

Your most faithful v.B.

Schonhausen, October 10, '50.

_My Darling_,--In a sullen rage I swoop down upon my inkstand after just lighting the Town Councillor downstairs with the kindliest countenance in the world. He sat here for two and a half hours by the clock, moaning and groaning, without the least regard for my wry face; I was just about to read the paper when he came. From ten to two I crawled about the Elbe's banks, in a boat and on foot, with many stupid people, attending to breakwaters, protective banks, and all sorts of nonsense. This is, in general, a day of vexations; this morning I dreamed so charmingly that I stood with you on the seash.o.r.e; it was just like the new strand, only the mud was rocks, the beeches were thick-foliaged laurel, the sea was as green as the Lake of Traun, and opposite us lay Genoa, which we shall probably never see, and it was delightfully warm; then I was awakened by Hildebrand, accompanied by a summoner, who brought me an order to serve as a juror at Magdeburg from October 20th to November 16th, under penalty of from one hundred to two hundred rix-dollars for each day of absence. I am going there by the first train tomorrow, and hope to extricate myself; for G.o.d so to punish my deep and restless longing for what is dearest to me in this world, so that we shall not have the fleeting pleasure of a couple of weeks together, would, indeed, be incredibly severe. I am all excitement; that is our share in the newly achieved liberty--that I am to be forced to spend my few days of freedom sitting in judgment over thievish tramps of Jews, like a prisoner in a fortress. I hope Gerlach can free me; otherwise I shall never speak to him again. Tomorrow I shall at once drop you a line from Magdeburg, to tell you how I succeed. * * * The people have abandoned the dike-captain conspiracy against me; the Town Councillor says he will not press it at all. He chattered to me for hours about his land-tax commission, in which his anxiety drove him to rage against his own flesh, and also, unfortunately, against ours. Our chief misfortune is the cowardly servility towards those above and the chasing after popularity below, which characterize our provincial councillor; consequently public business, the chase, land-tax, etc., are all deleteriously affected. It is due princ.i.p.ally to the fact that he is grossly ignorant and bungling in affairs, and is, therefore, for better, for worse, in the hands of his democratic circuit secretary, to whom he never dares to show his teeth; and, despite all that, the fellow wears trousers, has been a soldier, and is a n.o.bleman. La-Croix is district-attorney at Madgeburg, withal, and he, too, must help me to sneak out of it. It is still impossible for me to acquiesce in the notion that we are to be separated all winter, and I am sick at heart whenever I think of it; only now do I truly feel how very, very much you and the _babies_ are part of myself, and how you fill my being.

That probably explains why it is that I appear cold to all except you, even to mother; if G.o.d should impose on me the terrible affliction of losing you, I feel, so far as my feelings can at this moment grasp and realize such a wilderness of desolation, that I would then cling so to your parents that mother would have to complain of being persecuted with love. But away with all imaginary misery; there is enough in reality. Let us now earnestly thank the Lord that we are all together, even though separated by three hundred and fifty miles, and let us experience the sweetness of knowing that we love each other very much, and can tell each other so. To me it is always like ingrat.i.tude to G.o.d that we choose to live apart so long, and are not together while He makes it possible for us; but He will show us His will; all may turn out differently; the Chambers may be dissolved, possibly very quickly, as the majority is probably opposed to the Ministry. Manteuffel was resolved upon it in that event, and it seems that Radowitz, since he is Minister, has approached him, and, in general, wants to change his politics again. Best love to all. Farewell. G.o.d keep you.

Your most faithful v.B.

Berlin, April 28, '51.

_My Dear Sweetheart_,--Mother's premonition that I would remain long away has, unfortunately, proved correct this time. * * * The King was the first to propose my nomination, and that at once, as a real delegate to the Diet; his plan has, of course, encountered much opposition, and has finally been so modified that Rochow will, it is true, remain Minister at Petersburg, whither he is to return in two months, but meanwhile, provisionally, he is commissioned to Frankfort, and I am to accompany him, with the a.s.surance that, on his leaving for Petersburg, I shall be his successor. But this last is between ourselves.

Now I want to go, first of all, to Frankfort, and take a look at the situation, and hear how I shall stand pecuniarily pending my definite appointment, of which I know nothing at all as yet. Then I shall see whether I can leave again shortly after the start, and whether I am to count on staying any longer; for, although I have, indeed, accepted, still I am not yet sufficiently familiar with the ground to be able to say definitely whether I shall stay there or shortly get out again. As soon as that is decided, we shall probably, after all, have to consider for you, too, the prospect of exchanging your quiet Reinfeld existence for the noise of the Diet's diplomacy.

You folks have often complained that nothing was made of me by those above me; now this is, beyond my expectations and wishes, a sudden appointment to what is at this moment the most important post in our diplomatic service; I have not sought it; I must a.s.sume that the Lord wished it, and I cannot withdraw, although I foresee that it will be an unfruitful and a th.o.r.n.y office, in which, with the best intentions, I shall forfeit the good opinion of many people. But it would be cowardly to decline. I cannot give you today further particulars as to our plans, how we shall meet, what will be done about your going to the seash.o.r.e; only I shall try to make leisure, if possible, to see you before. I feel almost like crying when I think of this sudden upsetting of our innocent plans, as well as of the uncertainty when I shall see you again, my beloved heart, and the babies; and I earnestly pray G.o.d to arrange it all without detriment to our earthly welfare and without harm to my soul. G.o.d be with you, my dear, and bring us together again soon. With heartfelt love.

Your most faithful v.B.

Frankfort, May 14, '51.

_My Little Dear,_--* * * It seems to be getting constantly more certain that I shall take Rochow's position in the summer. In that event, if the rating remains as it was, I shall have a salary of twenty-one thousand rix-dollars, but I shall have to keep a large train and household establishment and you, my poor child, must sit stiff and sedate in the drawing-room, be called Excellency, and be clever and wise with Excellencies. * * * The city is not so bad as you suppose; there are a great many charming villas before the gates, similar to those in the Thiergarten, only more sunny. As Councillor of Legation, it will be difficult for us to live there, owing to distance and expense; but as Amba.s.sador, quite as charming as is possible in a foreign land. By letters of introduction I have quickly become acquainted with the charming world hereabouts. Yesterday I dined with the English Amba.s.sador, Lord Cowley, nephew of the Duke of Wellington; very kind, agreeable people; she is an elegant woman of about forty, very worldly, but benevolent and easy to get acquainted with; I have immediately put myself on a friendly footing with her, so that when you step into the cold bath of diplomatic society she may be a powerful support for you. Previously I called on a Frau von Stallupin (p.r.o.nounce Stolipine), a young woman without children, kindly, like all Russian women, but terribly rich, and settled in a little castle-like villa, so that one hardly dares to take a step or to sit down; a Scharteuck interior is a rude barn compared with it. Day before yesterday evening I called on Frau von Vrintz, a sister of Meyendorf's wife; the diplomatic folks a.s.semble every evening in her drawing-room. Countess Thun was there, a very handsome young woman, in the style of Malvinia; also the Marquis de Tallenay, French Amba.s.sador, a polite fifty-year-old; Count Szechenyi, a gay young Magyar, full of pranks, and divers other foreign personages. They gamble there every evening, the lady of the house, too, and not for very low stakes; I was scolded for declaring it boresome, and told them it would be my role to laugh at those who lost. Society probably does not appeal to you very strongly, my beloved heart, and it seems to me as though I were harming you by bringing you into it, but how shall I avoid that? I have one favor to ask of you, but keep it to yourself, and do not let mother suspect that I have written you one word about it, otherwise she will worry needlessly over it: occupy yourself with French as much as you can in the meantime, but let it be thought that you yourself have discovered that it is useful. Read French, but, if you love me, do not do so by artificial light, or if your eyes pain you; in that case you had better ask mother to read to you, for it is almost harder to understand than to speak. If you know of any agreeable piece of baggage you can get in a hurry to chatter French to you, then engage one; I will gladly pay the bill. You will enter here an atmosphere of French spirit and talk, anyway; so you cannot avoid familiarizing yourself with it as far as possible. If you know of no person whom you like and who is available, let it go; and, at any rate, I beg you sincerely not to consider this advice as a hardship, or otherwise than if I asked you to buy yourself a green or a blue dress; it is not a matter of life and death; you are _my_ wife, and not the diplomats', and they can just as well learn German as you can learn French. Only if you have leisure, or wish to read anyway, take a French novel; but if you have no desire to do so, consider this as not written, for I married you in order to love you in G.o.d and according to the need of my heart, and in order to have in the midst of the strange world a place for my heart, which all the world's bleak winds cannot chill, and where I may find the warmth of the home-fire, to which I eagerly betake myself when it is stormy and cold without; but not to have a society woman for others, and I shall cherish and nurse your little fireplace, put wood on it and blow, and protect it against all that is evil and strange, for, next to G.o.d's mercy, there is nothing which is dearer and more necessary to me than your love, and the homelike hearth which stands between us everywhere, even in a strange land, when we are together. Do not be too much depressed and sad over the change of our life; my heart is not attached, or, at least, not strongly attached, to earthly honor; I shall easily dispense with it if it should ever endanger our peace with G.o.d or our contentment. * * * Farewell, my dearly beloved heart. Kiss the children for me, and give your parents my love.

Your most faithful v.B.

Frankfort, May 16, '51.

_Dear Mother_,--* * * So far as I am at present acquainted with the _highest_ circles of society, there is only one house which seems to me to promise company for Johanna--that of the English Amba.s.sador. As this letter will probably be opened by the Austrian (Frankfort) post-office authorities, I shall refrain from explaining on this occasion the reasons therefor. Even those letters which, like my last ones, I took occasion to send by a courier, are not secure from indiscretions at _Berlin_; those to me as well as those from me; but those which go by the regular mail are always opened, except when there is no time for it, as the gentleman who will read this could probably testify. But all that, for better, for worse, forms part of the petty ills of my new position.

In my thoughts I must always ask you and our dad to forgive me for depriving you of the pleasure and the happiness of your old days, inasmuch as I transplant to such a distance the bright child-life, with all its dear cares, and take Johanna away a second time from her father's house; but I see no other way out of it, which would not be unnatural, or even wrong, and the strong arm which separated us when we hoped to be united can also unite us when we least expect it. You shall at least have the conviction, so far as human purpose can give it, that I shall wander, together with Johanna, with the strong staff of the Word of G.o.d, trough this dead and wicked activity of the world, whose nakedness will become more apparent to us in our new position than before, and that to the end of our joint pilgrimage my hand shall strive, in faithful love, to smooth Johanna's paths, and to be a warm covering to her against the breath of the great world.

Your faithful son, v.B.

Frankfort, May 18, '51.

_My Darling_,--Frankfort is terribly tiresome; I am so spoiled by so much affection and so much business that I am only just beginning to suspect how ungrateful I always was to some people in Berlin, to say nothing of you and yours; but even the cooler measure of fellowship and party affiliation which came to me in Berlin may be called an intimate relationship compared with intercourse here, which is, in fact, nothing more than mutual mistrust and espionage, if there only were anything to spy out or to conceal! The people toil and fret over nothing but mere trifles, and these diplomats, with their consequential hair-splitting, already seem to me more ridiculous than the Member of the Second Chamber in the consciousness of his dignity.

If foreign events do not take place, and those we over-smart Diet people can neither direct nor prognosticate, I know quite definitely now what we shall have accomplished in one, two, or five years, and am willing to effect it in twenty-four hours if the others will but be truthful and sensible for a single day. I have never doubted that they all use water for cooking; but such an insipid, silly water-broth, in which not a single bubble of mutton-suet is visible, surprises me.

Send me Filohr, the village-mayor, Stephen Lotke, and Herr von Dombrowsky, of the turnpike-house, as soon as they are washed and combed, and I shall cut a dash with them in diplomatic circles. I am making headlong progress in the art of saying nothing by using, many words; I write reports of many pages, which read nice and smooth as editorials; and if Manteuffel, after he has read them, can tell what they contain, he can do more than I. Each of us makes believe that he thinks the other is full of ideas and plans, if he would but speak out, and yet we none of us know a jot better than the man in the moon does what is to become of Germany. No mortal, not even the most malevolently skeptical Democrat, will believe what a vast amount of charlatanism and consequential pomposity there is in this diplomacy.

But now I have done enough scolding, and want to tell you that I am well, and that I was very glad and gave thanks to the Lord that, according to your last letter, all was well with you, and that I love you very much, and look at every pretty villa, thinking that perhaps our _babies_ will be running about in it in summer. Do see that you get the girls to come along, or if they absolutely refuse, bring others from there with whom we are already somewhat acquainted. I don't care to have a Frankfort snip in the room, or with the children; or we must take a Hessian girl, with short petticoats and ridiculous head-gear; they are half-way rural and honest. For the present I shall rent a furnished room for myself in the city; the inn here is too expensive. Lodgings, 5 guilders per day; two cups of tea, without anything else, 36 kreutzers (35 are 10 silbergroschen), and, served as the style is here, it is insulting. Day before yesterday I was at Mayence; it is a charming region, indeed. The rye is already standing in full ears, although the weather is infamously cold every night and morning. The excursions by rail are the best things here. To Heidelberg, Baden-Baden, Odenwald, Hamburg, Soden, Wiesbaden, Bingen, Rudesheim, Niederwald, is a leisurely day's journey; one can stay there for five or six hours and be here again in the evening; hitherto I have not yet availed myself of it, but shall do so, so that I may escort you when you are here. Rochow left for Warsaw at nine o'clock last night; he will arrive there day after tomorrow at noon, and will most likely be here again a week from today. About politics and individuals cannot write you much, because most letters are opened, When once they are familiar with your address on my letters and with your handwriting on yours, they will probably get over it, because they have no time to read family letters. Do not be afraid of the local aristocracy; as to money, Rothschild is the most aristocratic, but deprive them _all_ of their money and salaries, and it would be seen how little each one is aristocratic in himself; money doesn't do it, and otherwise--may the Lord keep me in humility, but here the temptation is strong to be content with one's self.

Countess Puckler, sister of the Countess s...o...b..rg, resides at Weistritz, near Schweidnitz. Now, farewell; I must go out. G.o.d's blessing be with you. Give F. and M. much love. Your most faithful v.

B.

Frankfort, May 27, '51.

_My Darling_,--* * * On Friday there was a ball at Lady Cowley's, which lasted until five in the morning; they all dance here as if possessed; the oldest delegates of fifty, with white hair, danced to the end of the cotillion, in the sweat of their brows. At midnight "G.o.d Save the Queen" was solemnly played, because her birthday was dawning, and it was all a transparency of English coats-of-arms and colors from top to bottom, and very many odd, stiff ladies, who "lisp English when they lie," as I read once upon a time the translation of that pa.s.sage in _Faust_; that is to say, they all have a pa.s.sion for talking bad French, and I am altogether forgetting my English, as I have discovered to my dismay. * * * Oftentimes I feel terribly homesick, and that is to me an agreeable sadness, for otherwise I seem to myself so aged, so dryly resigned and doc.u.mentary, as if I were only pasted on a piece of card-board. * * * Give your dear parents my heartfelt love, and kiss Annie's pretty hand for me, because she stays with you so sweetly-Now, I shall not write another word until I have a letter from you in hand. Yesterday I attended the Lutheran church here; a not very gifted, but devout, minister; the audience consisted, apart from myself, of just twenty two women, and my appearance was visibly an event. G.o.d bless and keep you and the children.

Your most faithful v.B.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PRINCESS BISMARCK]

Frankfort, Ascension Day--Evening.

(Postmarked Berlin, June 1, '51.)

_My Heart_,--How good it is of you all that, directly after I had mailed my complaint of lack of news, there arrives such a shower of letters. A thousand thanks to your dear parents, and I shall answer dad tomorrow, when I am less hurried than today, for on this dear holiday, after a big dinner, I must still write some long despatches.

I was at the French church today, where at least there was more congregation and devotion, and the minister was pa.s.sable, too, but I cannot talk French with my dear, faithful Lord and Saviour; it seems to me ungrateful. For the rest, they sang pretty hymns, these insipid Calvinists, almost in the sweet Catholic tune which you always play. * * *

Your most faithful v.B.

Your letter had been opened again.

Frankfort, June 4, '51.

_My Darling_,--Were you not going to write to me any more? I was resolved even yesterday not to put pen to paper until I should have a letter from you, but, anyway, I will be good, and tell you that I am well and love you, even if you let your little inkstand dry up. I long exceedingly for you and the children, and for quiet, comfortable domesticity at Schonhausen or Reinfeld. As soon as I have finished my hitherto rather unimportant occupations, my empty lodgings, and the whole dreary world behind, face me, and I know not where to set my foot, for there is nothing which particularly attracts me. Day before yesterday I ate at Biberich, with the Duke of Na.s.sau, the first fresh herrings and the first strawberries and raspberries of the season. It is certainly a delightful piece of earth along the Rhine, and I looked pensively from the castle windows over to the red cathedral of Mayence, which, almost four years ago, we both went to see very early in the morning, in times for which we were not then sufficiently grateful to G.o.d; I remembered how, on board the steamer, the blue hills before us, we pa.s.sed by the Duke's handsome castle, without dreaming how and why I should stand there at the window this year, an old wig of a Minister before me, who unravelled his views on national polities, while I was thinking, with an occasional absent-minded "Quite so," of our trip of '47, and sought with my eyes the spot on the Mayence bridge whence you, in your little Geneva coat, embarked on the steamer; and then I thought of Geneva. * * * Countess Thun unfortunately left on Sunday for Tetschen, to spend three months with her father-in-law. She is a kindly lady, womanly and devout (Catholic, very), attributes which do not grace the women here in general; her husband gambles and flirts, I believe, more so than is agreeable to her. I hardly believe that you will like her, but she is one of the better specimens of women of the great world, even though that just proves to me that a woman of that world would not have been suitable for me; I like her to a.s.sociate with, but not to marry. Perhaps, by comparing her with the others of her sort, you will learn to appreciate her. The gentlemen are unendurable. The moment I accost one he a.s.sumes a diplomatic countenance, and thinks of what he can answer without saying too much, and what he can write home concerning my utterances. Those who are not so I find still less congenial; they talk equivocally to the ladies, and the latter encourage them shamefully. It makes a less morbid impression on me if a woman falls thoroughly for once, but preserves a sense of shame at heart, than if she takes pleasure in such chatter; and I value the Countess Thun, because, despite the general fashion prevailing here, she knows how to keep decidedly clear of all that sort of thing. * * * Your most faithful v.B.