I really am sorry for these vain, silly, gulled humbugs among whom I am living. They have many amiable qualities, although, in trying to be Spartans, they have mistaken their vocation. They are, indeed, far too agreeable to be Spartans, who in private life must have been the most intolerable of bores. It is a sad confession of human weakness, but, as a rule, persons are not liked on account of their virtues. Excessively good people are--speaking socially--angular. Take, for instance, the Prussians; they are saints compared with the French. They have every sort of excellence: they are honest, sober, hard-working, well-instructed, brave, good sons, husbands, and fathers; and yet all this is spoilt by one single fault--they are insupportable. Laugh at the French, abuse them as one may, it is impossible to help liking them. Admire, respect the Prussians as one may, it is impossible to help disliking them. I will venture to say that it would be impossible to find 100 Germans born south of the Main who would declare, on their honour, that they prefer a Prussian to a Frenchman. The only Prussian I ever knew who was an agreeable man was Bismarck. All others with whom I have been thrown--and I have lived for years in Germany--were proud as Scotchmen, cold as New Englanders, and touchy as only Prussians can be. I once had a friend among them. His name was Buckenbrock. Inadvertently I called him Butterbrod. We have never spoken since. A Prussian lieutenant is the most offensive specimen of humanity that nature and pipeclay have ever produced. Apart from all political considerations, the supremacy of this nation in Europe will be a social calamity, unless France, like vanquished Greece, introduces the amenities of society among these pedants, squires, and martinets. What, however, is to be done for the French? Nothing, I am afraid. They have brought their troubles on their own heads; and, to use an Americanism, they must face the music. Even at this late moment they fail to realise the fact that they ever will be called upon to endure any real hardships, or that their town ever really will be bombarded. I was watching the crowd on the Boulevards this afternoon. It was dispirited because it had for twenty-four hours set its heart upon peace, and was disappointed like a child who cannot get the toy it wants; but I will venture to say, not one person in his heart of hearts really imagined that perhaps within a week he might be blown up by a bomb. They either will not or cannot believe that anything will happen which they do not desire. Facts of this kind must be palpably brought home to them before they will even imagine that they are possible.