cts which came up for discussion in the new Prussian parliament, in
which Bismarck exhibited with more force than eloquence his loyalty to
the crown, and a conservatism which was branded by the liberals as
mediaeval. But his originality, his boldness, his fearlessness, his
rugged earnestness, his wit and humor, his biting sarcasm, his
fertility of resources, his knowledge of men and affairs, and his
devoted patriotism, marked him out for promotion.

In 1851 Bismarck was sent as first secretary of the Prussian embassy to
the Diet of the various German States, convened at Frankfort, in which
Austria held a predominating influence. It was not a parliament, but an
administrative council of the Germanic Confederation founded by the
Congress of Vienna in 1815. It made no laws, and its sittings were
secret. It was a body which represented the League of Sovereigns, and
was composed of only seventeen delegates,--its main function being to
suppress all liberal movements in the various German States; like the
Congress of Vienna itself. The Diet of Frankfort was pretentious, but
practically impotent, and was the laughingstock of Europe. It was full
of jealousies and intrigues. It was a mere diplomatic conference. As
Austria and Prussia controlled it, things went well enough when these
two Powers were agreed; but they did not often agree. There was a
perpetual rivalry between them, and an unextinguishable jealousy.

There were many sneers at the appointment of a man to this diplomatic
post whose manners were brusque and overbearing, and who had spent the
most of his time, after leaving the university, among horses, cattle,
and dogs; who was only a lieutenant of militia, with a single
decoration, and who was unacquainted with what is called diplomacy. But
the king knew his man, and the man was conscious of his powers.

Bismarck found life at Frankfort intolerably dull. He had a contempt for
his diplomatic associates generally, and made fun of them to his few
intimate friends. He took them in almost at a glance, for he had an
intuitive knowledge of character; he weighed them in his balance, and
found them wanting. In a letter to his wife, he writes: "Nothing but
miserable trifles do these people trouble themselves about. They strike
me as infinitely more ridiculous with their important ponderosity
concerning the gathered rags of gossip, than even a member of the Second
Chamber of Berlin in the full consciousness of his dignity.... Th