Before the war many an angry word had been uttered against Bismarck in Bendler Street, but when a party of literati had assembled there on the twenty-second of July, 1866, they soon began to talk of politics, and each one gave expression to the admiration with which Bismarck’s greatness inspired him. Even Frau Lepsius praised the man whom she had previously judged none too mildly. (See page 245.) They all agreed that it was now possible for the first time to understand this great statesman’s aims and mode of action, and that as an envoy to the Diet he must undoubtedly have already grasped the idea which had now been carried into execution in such a wonderful manner. But Wichern thought he should have allowed his great intentions to be perceived a little more plainly, so that he might have been better understood and not so much hated. Lepsius then rose, and responded to this opinion of the clever master of the “reformatory,” that it was the great characteristic of Bismarck as a statesman that he knew how to keep silence for years, and to pursue his aims quietly. A few days before this the great Chancelor, on the occasion of the celebration of victory at Kroll, had proposed his beautiful toast to “The Children of Berlin,” who were a little rash in word, but had head and heart in the right place. The wave of enthusiasm rolled high at that time. Every Prussian heart beat full and quick for its King. Lepsius had always greatly extolled his direct and honest nature, and his clear intelligence, which could never be confused. He was delighted therefore at the Monarch’s saying to him, “I myself proposed you,” when he received the red order of the eagle of the second class in 1867, on the annual celebration of the founding of that order. The Court Chaplain Snethlage, who had been a faithful friend of the family, resigned his office in July, 1867, and the diary contains the following touching anecdote: “On a certain day one of the men of his parish comes to Snethlage, assures him of his fidelity and reverence, and then says to him, ‘But now I have a request to make of you: Preach no more; it will not do any longer!’ Thereupon the Court Chaplain held his peace for a short time, and then said, ‘You are right, it will no longer do, and I will give up preaching.’” In September of the same year Lepsius went to Paris and London with his daughters, and in the autumn of 1869 he went to Egypt for the last time, and chiefly on account of the celebration of the opening of the Suez Canal.