I was then with the Prince from 3.5 to 4 P.M. He was in plain clothes, and sat at his ordinary double writing-table. He did not look ill, but complained as usual of his neuralgia. He said: “It now extends over the whole body, the chest and abdomen, and I can no longer exert myself to think or work for any length of time--two hours at the outside; then I must give up, or drink champagne or something of that kind to keep myself going for a while longer. I ought to get out of harness altogether, but the Emperor will not consent to this, and even when I go to the country, business and worry now follow at my heels.” I asked: “Worry with the gentlemen in Parliament?” “Ah, no,” he replied; “I no longer read their speeches and brawling. It is the Ministers. Scholz is all right, as also Bötticher and Maybach, although the latter is somewhat blunt,--but the others, and particularly those in the Foreign Office!” I said: “But surely Bucher and Busch are able and diligent.” “That is so,” he rejoined; “but Bucher is cross-tempered and soured, and Busch is sinking under his load of work. I was mistaken in Hatzfeldt. He is very good for negotiating with the King and the Crown Prince, but he thinks only of his own interest, and would like to be my successor; but he has no sense of duty and no love of work.” I added: “One or at most two hours’ work in the day, as formerly--and then to play a game of croquet or lawn tennis with Mrs. or Madame So-and-so.” “Yes,” he said, “that’s his way. Like Lucca. _Unser Paulchen ist sehr faulchen_ (Our little Paul is very lazy). His Excellency Herr von Keudell also wanted to become Imperial Chancellor one day, and absurd as the notion was, he worked it through his friends in the press, who had to praise him up to the skies and represent him as your intimate adviser. But I always regarded him as quite insignificant in politics, and in addition to that he could never do any work. He found a difficulty in managing the most ordinary affairs. I was often obliged to do things for him, and once at Versailles Taglioni, the deciphering clerk, finished off no less than thirty documents for him with which he was in arrears. It is true that he was very clever in looking after his own interests.” He: “Yes, and he also knew how to get himself a rich wife, and to take advantage of the position which he acquired through the friendship of my wife and his own musical talent. Moreover, he knew how to impress people with his importance--through his silence. But there was nothing behind it. He is stupid, empty and incapable. He was unable even to manage the Pay Department properly.” I: “On going to Constantinople it is said that he left a deficit of 80,000 thalers.”