eaten to occur. The Kaiser, a little man of high and humane air, is
not bright in talk; the Empress, a Brunswick Princess of fine carriage,
Grand-daughter of old Anton Ulrich who wrote the Novels, is likewise
of mute humor in public life; but old Nord-Teutschland, cradle of one's
existence; Brunswick reminiscences; news of your Imperial Majesty's
serene Father, serene Sister, Brother-in-law the Feldmarschall
and Insipid Niece whom we have had the satisfaction to betroth
lately,--furnish small-talk where needful.

Dinner being near, you go by your own gallery to dress. From the
drawing-room, Friedrich Wilhelm leads out the Kaiserinn; the Kaiser, as
Head of the world, walks first, though without any lady. How they drank
the healths, gave and received the ewers and towels, is written duly in
the old Books, but was as indifferent to Friedrich Wilhelm as it is to
us; what their conversation was, let no man presume to ask. Dullish, we
should apprehend,--and perhaps BETTER lost to us? But where there are
tongues, there are topics: the Loom of Time wags always, and with it the
tongues of men. Kaiser and Kaiserinn have both been in Karlsbad lately;
Kaiser and Kaiserinn both have sailed to Spain, in old days, and been in
sieges and things memorable: Friedrich Wilhelm, solid Squire Western
of the North, does not want for topics, and talks as a solid rustic
gentleman will. Native politeness he knows on occasion; to etiquette, so
far as concerns his own pretensions, he feels callous altogether,--dimly
sensible that the Eighteenth Century is setting in, and that solid
musketeers and not goldsticks are now the important thing. "I felt mad
to see him so humiliate himself," said Grumkow afterwards to Wilhelmina,
"J'ENRAGEAIS DANS MA PEAU:" why not?

Dinner lasted two hours; the Empress rising, Friedrich Wilhelm leads her
to her room; then retires to his own, and "in a quarter of an hour"
is visited there by the Kaiser; "who conducts him," in so many minutes
exact by the watch, "back to the Empress,"--for a sip of coffee, as one
hopes; which may wind up the Interview well. The sun is still a good
space from setting, when Friedrich Wilhelm, after cordial adieus,
neglectful of etiquette, is rolling rapidly towards Nimburg, thirty
miles off on the Prag Highway; and Kaiser Karl with his Spouse move
deliberately towards Chlumetz to hunt again. In Nimburg Friedrich
Wilhelm sleeps, that night;--Imperial Majesties, in a much-tumbled
world, of w