At Eisenach, my granddaughter Christiane and her affianced awaited me. He was still walking on crutches, but hoped to lay them aside in a few months, and to depend upon his wife's arm for support. Christiane had become quite youthful in appearance. She fairly beamed with happiness, as she looked now at me, and now at her betrothed. The others continued on their journey, but Loedinger and I remained behind to visit a hallowed shrine. I spent the evening with Christiane and her betrothed. I promised to attend the wedding on my return from the Reichstag. At early dawn, Loedinger and I ascended the Wartburg. We knew that each other's thoughts wandered back to the companions who, more than half a century ago, had come here, filled with the enthusiasm of youth. An invisible band of warriors marched at our side. Silently, we walked through the halls of the castle. When we looked out over the country, far and wide, Loedinger grasped my hand and said: "It is hard, after all, that our flag, with its sacred colors, does not float here in the morning breeze. They should have left us that. There is great danger in the fact that it is now the banner of the opposition, and is raised by the hands of those who are against us and the unity we have labored so hard to win." While trying to console him, I consoled myself, and the ardor of youth seemed to return to us. Descending the mountain, we sang our old student songs, and felt young again. Yes, this mountain is the altar of all that is great and pure and beautiful in our united Fatherland. When we passed Weimar, where the creators of the unity of German thought had dwelt and labored, Loedinger said, "We might well cry out: 'Hearken, ye heroes of the mind, your words have become deeds.'" Doctor Wilhelmi and his wife received me at the railroad depot. Friend Wilhelmi, once a handsome, slender man, has grown stout, but the sound of his hearty, musical voice, the warm and kindly glance, the grasp of his hand, are all unchanged. Loedinger was lodged with a friend of his, who lived in the neighborhood, and I soon felt at home with my old friends. The best people of the city, yes of the whole country, made their house a rendezvous. I have here made the acquaintance of a great number of men of distinguished merit. We are well supplied in that respect. I also made the nearer acquaintance of some of those sharp Prussians. I felt at first as if they were setting my teeth on edge. But, after awhile, I recognized their good traits. Doctor Wilhelmi still has an album of the members of the Frankfort Reichstag. We renewed our memories of olden days while looking at the pictures, and supplemented each other's information with what we knew of this or that old friend. In every word that Wilhelmi speaks, I recognize his lofty ideality; but life in America has made him more practical than he once was. The hospitality of the Greeks is vaunted. We possess it in a new shape; for a whole city considers itself our host.