The Daily Madisonian

LETTERS FROM ABROAD.

I found on my arrival at Berlin that the action of the U. S. Senate, in relation to the Zoll Verein Treaty, had occasioned serious dissatisfaction and mortification to those most directly concerned in its negotiation. The delay to fulfil its provisions seemed to them a sort of intentional slight—an indirect offence. So seriously were they aggrieved, so deeply were their feelings wounded by this unwise procrastination on our part, that they had come to the positive determination not to prolong the time (which had already expired) for the ratification of the Treaty; and but for the remarkable tact and unwearied exertions of our excellent Chargé d'Affaires, Theodore S. Fay, Esq., the whole matter would have been at an end. His immense personal popularity with the King's Ministers, his commanding talents and indomitable perseverance, were all brought into requisition, and his efforts in prolonging the time were finally successful.

Too much credit cannot be bestowed upon this highly accomplished and talented diplomatist, for his unflagging zeal in accomplishing that, which in any other hands, would have been a fruitless undertaking.

I had no opportunity of seeing our Minister, Mr. Wheaton, during my protracted stay in Berlin. His family residing in France, he is necessarily absent a considerable portion of his time. His place is however well supplied in his absence by Mr. Fay, who exercises the happiest influence at that polite Court—few of the foreign Ambassadors are so cordially welcomed, or possess such a commanding influence there as himself. His highly accomplished lady is a universal favorite: Mrs. Wheaton and her daughters living near Paris, the duty of entertaining devolves upon Mr. and Mrs. Fay—and most enviably are the Honors of their station performed. Whatever changes it may be thought necessary to make among our diplomatic agents abroad, I most earnestly and confidently hope that Mr. Fay may be permitted to retain his present situation. Its duties could not be more satisfactorily performed than they are at present.

One of the first things which strikes the notice of a stranger, after becoming somewhat acquainted in Berlin, is the uncomfortable arrangements of the (otherwise) elegant dwelling houses. So illy constructed are their family mansions; so little is taste and comfort consulted in their architecture; that visitors are frequently compelled to pass through a suite of sleeping rooms, bed-chambers, and sometimes even through the kitchen, before they are able to reach the parlor, or receiving room. The houses generally are built of the best materials, handsomely finished and furnished, and but for the inexcusable fault in their internal architecture to which I have alluded, would equal, in point of magnificence, almost any in the world. A yankee builder would stare "pretty considerably," if not more, were he to examine the plans upon which the houses here are generally built.

Dogs are here put to some use—they are made to earn their living at least, if not a trifle more. You see them harnessed to little carts in all directions; some belonging to the milkman, others to the wash-woman, fruiterer, marketwoman, &c. &c. It would be some consolation to the dwellers in our own towns and villages to know that the howling nuisances, which "make the night hideous," would make some little atonement the next day for destroying their rest.

If you walk abroad in this good city of Berlin after ten o'clock at night, you will hear every now and then, in almost all directions, the sound of what seems to your ear a boy's penny whistle; the mystery is explained, however, before you have walked far. You meet a guardian of the night, armed with a pike, a short sword, a brace or two of pistols, a wooden whistle, and a large bunch of keys; of what possible use the latter could be to a watchman, I was unable to understand, until one night, having been locked out of my lodgings, my companion called "Watcher" in German, when one of the guardians aforesaid crossed the street, selected the proper key from his bunch, and opened the door; we entered—he closed and locked it after us, and the secret was out. He could open the door of every house upon his beat, at will, in case of fire, violence, or any other justifiable cause. In our country we should be very unwilling to allow even a watchman to enter our dwellings at night, whenever he pleased. The continual alarm, too, of their whistles, must be favorable to those burglariously inclined, as it must give them due notice of "watch's" approach. In case of fire, the watchman gives the alarm by a conch-shell or horn.

I have a thousand other matters to talk to you about, but this infliction will suffice for to-day.

F.