Until the war of 1870, Prince George was on terms of the utmost intimacy with the de Goncourts, the Dumases, de Girardin, and all the principal literary lights of France, with whom he was wont to foregather on a footing of artistic equality each year at Ems, a German watering-place much frequented by the French prior to the great struggle of 1870; of course, since that time his intercourse with French people has been much more restricted, and through a feeling of delicacy and tact, with which he is not usually credited, he has refrained from visiting Paris, or even from setting his foot on French territory since the war.  This, however, has not prevented him from keeping himself au courant of every literary and dramatic event that takes place on the banks of the Seine, and a French academician of my acquaintance who was presented to him last summer at Ems, and who spent several days there in his company, could not sufficiently express his amazement, not merely at the extraordinary purity of the prince’s French, but likewise at the amazing manner in which he seems to have kept track of everything that has happened at Paris in the world of letters and art, as well as of the French idioms, figures of speech, and even witticisms of the present day.

The delicacy which Prince George manifests with regard to the French people, and his fear lest his admiration for them should be misinterpreted, is largely due to the treatment that he received at the hands of Empress Eugenie at Carlsbad, in 1874 or 1875.  Having been a frequent and welcome guest at the Tuileries during the reign of Napoleon III., the prince, when he found that the widowed empress had arrived at Carlsbad, and had taken up her residence at the very hotel at which he was staying, naturally considered that he could not do otherwise than take some notice of her presence; if he affected to ignore her, he would have exposed himself to the reproach of gross discourtesy; at the same time he felt that any public form of attention might prove unwelcome to her, and might possibly serve to impair her son’s prospects of recovering his father’s throne; so he contented himself with sending her every day magnificent baskets of flowers, and with bowing to her with the utmost deference, but without attempting to accost her when he met her in the gardens or park.  He likewise caused it to be intimated to her secretary, M. Pietri, that if at any moment she felt disposed to accord him an audience, he would be only too glad of the opportunity to “lay his homage at the feet of her majesty.”  That was all.  Yet such as it was, the empress managed to turn it to political account, for she suddenly left Carlsbad, making it known throughout France, by means of the press, that she had been compelled to quit the baths, and to interrupt the cure, in consequence of the undesirable attentions which Prince George of Prussia persisted in forcing upon her.  Naturally, the newspapers made the most of her story, and were