But then I thought of you, although I altogether object to having books written about me and to people trading with me and my affairs. Poschinger has done so, and sold my despatches and letters, forgetting even to send me any remuneration.” (Sometimes his humour does not desert him even in his anger.) “Besides, this new book is not so good as the preceding one. It does not contain much that is new, and what it does is false. You are not such a good observer as you were; you have grown older; and you want to divine and picture my inner man from fragmentary observations, which were mainly misconceptions. You draw conclusions from occasional utterances which you jotted down under the table-cloth. According to you I am always in deadly earnest, as if I were on oath, &c.” I abstained from urging what could be said on the other side, and his excitement gradually subsided. Taking some of the proofs he sat down at his writing-table and invited me to take a place opposite, in order that I might note down his corrections and additions. He was rather impatient over it, said my hearing was not so good as formerly, and complained that I did not take down dictation as rapidly as his sons, and so on. On this occasion we went through the greater part of the third chapter, and he had very much less to object to and alter than I had apprehended from his letter of the 3rd of August. By far the greater part of these pages he turned over without any remarks. With respect to the others he made observations that had no reference to the book, as for instance: “Thadden, a narrow-minded fellow, who has no brains.” After about three-quarters of an hour he stood up and said: “I must now get some fresh air.” He strode up and down the room, however, for a while, as before, and began again to vent his anger at the presumption and threats of “this bookseller who wanted to harness me to his Christmas cart.” Ultimately, however, he quieted down, grew more friendly, and showed me over the apartments, including his bedroom. In one of the first of these was hung a portrait in oils of a Roman prelate of high rank. In reply to my inquiry he informed me that it was Cardinal Hohenlohe. He then went out for a walk or drive, while I proceeded to my room and wrote out his observations and the corrections which he had dictated to me. This room, which contains pictures of Grant, Washington and Hamilton, looks out on the park. After 3 P.M. I paid a visit to the Head Forester, Lange, with whom I took a drive.