awaiting news from the King at times when important measures were under consideration. Here on the night of the 14th and 15th of June, in the Year of Victory, 1866, the idea occurred to him of inducing Moltke to order the Prussian forces to cross the frontier, and thereby the Rubicon, twenty-four hours earlier than had been originally intended; and here, in 1870, about the time of the declaration of war, he was to be seen repeatedly pacing up and down that evergreen avenue in a meditative mood, swinging a big stick, and from time to time sending the messenger in waiting to summon one of his assistants in order to give instructions for despatches, telegrams, or newspaper articles. Returning from the garden behind No. 76 Wilhelmstrasse, we observe that the two wings in which the house ends at this side contain only work rooms, servants’ apartments, stables, &c., and that the courtyard between them is shaded by a broad branched nut-tree. Proceeding up the stairs behind the screen in the main building, and passing through the glass door at the top, we enter a small antechamber. When the Chancellor is in Berlin, servants in livery and Chancery attendants in black swallow-tail coats await here the arrival of visitors and of those who are to be received in audience, or have to make verbal reports to the Chancellor. A door to the left leads into a second small antechamber, while another to the right brings us into a large oval drawing-room, which extends almost throughout the entire depth of the building. We are told that this was once the ball-room of the Minister Alopaeus, while it now serves as a dining-room when big dinners are given, and for the buffets at the well-known Parliamentary evenings.[3] From this room we pass into a somewhat smaller one, the four windows of which open on to the Wilhelmstrasse.... The whole room leaves a bright and pleasant impression. It is elegant, but by no means sumptuous, and indeed might be described as comparatively simple. The lack of pictures, and the entirely white ceiling, gives it a certain emptiness and loneliness, while the old-fashioned arrangements for lighting it are not quite in harmony with the remainder of the apartment. In this respect, also, the Chancellor is more unassuming and indifferent to luxury and elegance than his colleagues of the diplomatic world. Not to speak of those who live nearer home, let us imagine how the French Minister for Foreign Affairs would have his residence furnished by the State!