love. Believe me yours with the highest regard.

E.D. BANCROFT.



LETTER: 2 December



Yesterday we dined at the Prussian Minister's, Chevalier Bunsen's.
He met your father in Rome twenty years since, and has received us
with great enthusiasm. Yesterday at dinner he actually rose in his
seat and made quite a speech welcoming him to England as historian,
old friend, etc., and ended by offering his health, which your
father replied to shortly, in a few words. Imagine such an outbreak
upon routine at a dinner in England! Nobody could have done it but
one of German blood, but I dare say the Everetts, who know him,
could imagine it all.



LETTER: To W.D.B. and A.B.
LONDON, December 19,1846



My dear Sons: . . . Yesterday we dined at Macready's and met quite
a new, and to us, a most agreeable circle. There was Carlyle, who
talked all dinner-time in his broad Scotch, in the most inimitable