A few days ago I visited Baden. It is charmingly situated in a valley, only a stone’s throw from Vienna, but one would fancy himself a hundred miles from a large city. My keeper has presented me to a number of beautiful ladies. Society here being so _gemüthlich_, everything that a Frenchman says is accepted as clever. They consider me uncommonly amiable. I have written sublime thoughts in their albums. I have made them drawings; in a word, I have made myself perfectly ridiculous, and it is on account of a sense of humiliation for having been up to such a trade that I am leaving to-day for Dresden. I shall stop there but one day, and then go on to Berlin. After visiting the Museum I shall start for Cologne, where there will be a letter from you. Did I tell you that I went to Hungary? I was in Pesth for three days, and imagined I was in Spain, or rather in Turkey. While there my modesty was excessively shocked, for I was taken to a public bath, where I saw the Hungarian men and women helter-skelter in a court-bouillon of hot mineral water. I noticed there a lovely Hungarian woman who concealed her face in her hands, not having, like Turkish women, a covering with which to veil her face. This spectacle cost me six _kreutzer_, namely, four half-pennies. I went to the Hungarian theatre to see _La Dame de Saint-Tropez_, not having wit enough to recognise a French melodrama under the title _Saint-Tropez à Unôz_. I heard some Bohemian musicians play Hungarian melodies, which were strange beyond measure. This music sets the natives mad. It begins with something intensely mournful, and ends in an _allegro con spirito_, which completely captivates the audience, who stamp on the floor, break their glasses, and dance on the tables. Foreigners, however, are not so affected by this marvellous music. Finally, and I have reserved the best for the last, I have seen a collection of very old Magyar jewels of exquisite workmanship. If I could have brought you one of these you would have come to meet me at Cologne in order to have it the sooner. During my entire journey I have been unusually well. The weather is delightful, but cold at night. I have no dread of the cold during my travels, for I have bought an enormous pelisse that cost me seventy-five florins. You could find here magnificent furs for nothing. They are, I think, the only things in this country that are cheap. I have gone bankrupt on cabs and dinners down town. The custom is here to pay the servants for one’s dinner: upon leaving you pay the porter; indeed, you pay at every step, but only a trifle at a time. Good-bye. I am not any too well pleased with your last letter, except when you tell me of your approaching return to Paris. Although I am bringing you no Magyar chains, I hope you will give me a welcome. I am beginning to long for my own hearthstone, and the evenings seem to me a little tedious. I expect to reach Cologne in less than a week, and to be in Paris from the 10th to the 15th.