verge the high roads to all parts of the Empire.

I have been once at the theatre, which is very near the _Swan_. A German
opera, the scene whereof was in India, was given. The scenery and
decorations were good, appropriate, and the singing very fair. The theatre
itself is dirty and gloomy. The German language appears to me to be better
adapted to music than either the French or English. The number of dactylic
terminations in the language give to it all the variety that the
_sdruccioli_ give to the Italian. As to poetry, no language in the world
suits itself better to all the vagaries and phantasies of the Muse, since
it possesses so much natural rythm and allows, like the Greek, the
combination of compound words and a redundancy of epithets, and it is
besides so flexible that it lends itself to all the ancient as well as the
modern metres with complete success: indeed it is the only modern language
that I know of which does so.

As for political opinions here, the Germans seem neither to wish nor to
care about the restoration of the Bourbons; but they talk loudly of the
necessity of tearing Alsace and Lorraine from France. In fact, they wish to
put it out of the power of the French ever to invade Germany again; a thing
however little to be hoped for. For the minor and weaker Germanic states
have always hitherto (and will probably again at some future day) invoked
the assistance of France against the greater and stronger. I observe that
the Austrian Government is not at all popular here, and that its bad faith
in financial matters is so notorious and has been so severely felt here,
that a merchant told me, alluding to the bankruptcy of the Austrian
Government on two occasions when there was no absolute necessity for the
measure, that Frankfort had suffered more from the bad faith of the
Austrian Government than from all the war contributions levied by the
French.

BRUXELLES, 28th July.

On arrival at Coblentz we heard that Napoleon had surrendered himself
unconditionally to Capt. Maitland of the _Bellerophon_. He never should
have humiliated himself so far as to surrender himself to the British
ministry. He owed to himself, to his brave fellow soldiers, to the French
nation whose Sovereign he had been, not to take such a step, but rather die
in the field like our Richard III, a glorious death which cast a lustre
around his memory in spite of the darker shades of his character; or if he
could not fall in the field,