Those who have only seen Bismarck in pictures or heard him speak in the Diet, or even met him in his walks, only know him from his official side, and as the great statesman and dignitary. But here, inside his own four walls, with ample leisure, and surrounded by celebrated and patriotic men, who all, more or less, have helped to advise, combat, or further his work, one learns to know and recognise in the Prince the real man and intelligent companion whose mighty intellect wields the affairs of nations. We have often heard visitors who were present at the sittings of the Diet declare that nothing surprised them so much as the intonation and pathos of Bismarck’s voice when speaking. His height, his brows, his forehead, his chest, his speeches, were all far greater and more powerful than they had imagined; but his voice, either when giving utterance to the driest details, or when startling his audience by some passionate appeal, had something marvellously soft and winning in it. And they are not far wrong. One can always tell from the Prince’s words, by the sound of his voice, what his feelings are at the time, no matter how moderate his speech may be; and never was this more distinct and vivid than on these Saturday evenings. Now he approaches our circle. ‘I wished much to see you here, gentlemen. It is so much easier to talk and understand one another here, than in the Diet House!’—and he shook hands all round. ‘Besides, now, if you want to interpellate me, or one of the deputies or privy-councillors, you can do so quietly and at your ease in a corner, and settle the whole affair in a few minutes.’ The Prince was right. Never before had the necessity of familiar and friendly intercourse been more apparent than during this session. From various untoward causes, the most crying discords had arisen between the deputies and the Diet, chiefly owing to neither party thoroughly understanding the other.