mentary material; Hesekiel's (which has been translated into
English) is the most popular. The best French biography is by Simon; the
only important English work is that by Lowe. For bibliography, see
Schulze and Roller, (Bismarck-Literatur) (1895), which contains about
600 titles. The Frankfort dispatches and the speeches have been
translated into French, but not into English.

[Illustration: signature of Munroe Smith]

TO FRAU VON ARNIM

SCHOeNHAUSEN, August 7th, 1850.

The fact is, this journey, and I see it more clearly the nearer it
approaches, gives me a right of reversion on the new lunatic asylum, or
at least a seat for life in the Second Chamber. I can already see myself
on the platform of the Genthiner station; then both of us packed in the
carriage, surrounded with all sorts of child's necessaries--an
embarrassing company; Johanna ashamed to suckle the baby, which
accordingly roars itself blue; then the passports, the inn; then at
Stettin railway station with both bellowing monkeys; then waiting an
hour at Angermuende for the horses; and how are we to get from
Kroechlendorf to Kuelz? It would be perfectly awful if we had to remain
for the night at Stettin. I did that last year with Marie and her
squallings. I was in such a state of despair yesterday over all these
visions that I was positively determined to give the whole thing up, and
at last went to bed with the resolve at least to go straight through,
without stopping anywhere; but what will one not commit for the sake of
domestic peace? The young cousins, male and female, must become
acquainted, and who knows when Johanna will see you again? She pounced
upon me last night with the boy in her arms, and with all those wiles
which formerly lost us Paradise; of course she succeeded in wringing my
consent that everything should remain as before. I feel, however, that I
am as one to whom fearful injustice is done, and I am certain that I
shall have to travel next year with three cradles, wet-nurses,
long-clothes, and counterpanes. I am now awake by six o'clock, and
already in a gentle simmer of anger; I cannot get to sleep, owing to all
the visions of traveling which my imagination paints in the darkest
colors, even up to the "picnics" on the sandhills of Stolpmuende. And
then if one were only paid for it! But to travel away the last remnants
of a once handsome fortune with sucking babies!--I am very unhappy!

Well--Wednesday, then, in Gerswalde--I s