with him.  The Emperor also invited us, on behalf of his absent eldest son and heir (aged 22,) to visit his palace and consider it a visit to him.  They all talk English and they were all very neatly but very plainly dressed.  You all dress a good deal finer than they were dressed.  The Emperor and his family threw off all reserve and showed us all over the palace themselves.  It is very rich and very elegant, but in no way gaudy.

I had been appointed chairman of a committee to draught an address to the Emperor in behalf of the passengers, and as I fully expected, and as they fully intended, I had to write the address myself.  I didn’t mind it, because I have no modesty and would as soon write to an Emperor as to anybody else—­but considering that there were 5 on the committee I thought they might have contributed one paragraph among them, anyway.  They wanted me to read it to him, too, but I declined that honor—­not because I hadn’t cheek enough (and some to spare,) but because our Consul at Odessa was along, and also the Secretary of our Legation at St. Petersburgh, and of course one of those ought to read it.  The Emperor accepted the address—­it was his business to do it—­and so many others have praised it warmly that I begin to imagine it must be a wonderful sort of document and herewith send you the original draught of it to be put into alcohol and preserved forever like a curious reptile.

They live right well at the Grand Duke Michael’s their breakfasts are not
gorgeous but very excellent—­and if Mike were to say the word I would go
there and breakfast with him tomorrow. 
                                   Yrs aff
          
                                   Sam.

P. S. [Written across the face of the last page.] They had told us it would be polite to invite the Emperor to visit the ship, though he would not be likely to do it.  But he didn’t give us a chance—­he has requested permission to come on board with his family and all his relations tomorrow and take a sail, in case it is calm weather.  I can, entertain them.  My hand is in, now, and if you want any more Emperors feted in style, trot them out.

The next letter is of interest in that it gives us the program and volume of his work.  With all the sight seeing he was averaging a full four letters a week—­long letters, requiring careful observation and inquiry.  How fresh and impressionable and full of vigor he was, even in that fierce southern heat!  No one makes the Mediterranean trip in summer to-day, and the thought of adding constant letter-writing to steady travel through southern France, Italy, Greece, and Turkey in blazing midsummer is stupefying.  And Syria and Egypt in September!

To Mrs. Jane Clemens and family, in St. Louis: 

Constantinople, Sept. 1, ’67.