Does it, then, require a great effort of reasoning to perceive that the King is the cementer of all things, that he keeps us out of chaos, and that upon his living or dying the state of affairs wholly depends? Let us ask conscientiously, does our danger to-day come from him? Shall an order of things, acquired with so much trouble, established with so much labor—shall it be sacrificed to the renown of a few men, or to the vain theories inapplicable to France, serviceable at the best only in England, where they are consecrated by age, and, what is still better, administered by the enlightened upper classes. D., who is a man of sound intellect, writes me that he believes in the happy issue of the ministerial crisis. Mr. Molé has changed his determination not to resume office; he will do so if there is a majority of thirty-six or forty votes secured to him. The Jacqueminot party, which is rendering great service, is working for this. Here are the adieux, the last ones of Mr. de Talleyrand at Fontainebleau, on the 2d of June, 1838: “Adieu, my dear Bresson, stay at Berlin as long as you can; you are well off there; do not try to be better off. There will be much commotion in the world; you are young; you will see it.” I quote these words for you, because they agree with the spirit of your note, for which I thank you once more, and which will become a family title to me. NOTE BY HUMBOLDT.—_Letter of Count Bresson, French Ambassador at Berlin._—I kept it on account of the few words of Talleyrand. I had written to Mr. Bresson that the situation of France was very serious, that I still believed in peace, because, besides the wisdom of the rulers, there was an expectant treatment of want of energy and timid prudence. That these things, however, could act only for a limited time, and that those who were young, like him, would see in action what was now spreading its deep roots, as the unconscious and inarticulate desires of the nations. 79. ARAGO TO HUMBOLDT. PARIS, _August 19th, 1834_. MY DEAR FRIEND—I cannot find words to tell you[38] how sorry I am at having caused you a moment’s annoyance. Be persuaded, then, once for all, that whatever wrongs, real or apparent, you may have experienced at my hands, you will never suffer that of my forgetting how good you have always been to me. The friendship which makes me so happy and proud, and which I have shown to you, shall never be surpassed by yours for me. I wanted, on the occasion of your kindly dedication, to give a public evidence of my friendship, but various circumstances arising out of my position, just now so very difficult and complicated, prevented. I hope, however, that it is only delayed.