And now these sketches are finished, and there is nothing left but to take farewell. It is always painful to say good-bye, whether to friends or places.

Life is a curious drama, and the scenes change very quickly. Accident, destiny, fate (call it what you like) sends us to some place; we stay there a few days, or weeks, or years; we make friends, we are on the most intimate terms with them; something calls us away; we never return to the well-known spot, and the friends there pass out of our lives—place and friends alike are but a memory.

Memories! how they crowd in on us, and how each year adds to their number! Look back down the fading river of years, and see how they stand out—monuments of bygone days—till they are finally lost in the sea of forgetfulness. Thank God, the pleasant ones last the longest! It seems as if old Time loves to wipe out the painful recollections, and to keep the pleasant ones ever fresh and green.

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I am writing in a railway carriage. The "Gentle Lunatic" is snoring sweetly on the seat opposite me, and the train is taking us every minute farther and farther from Duino.

Good-bye, old castle! May your old walls withstand the wear and tear of many another century. They have been very happy days that I have spent in them, but they are all over. Only in dreams shall I behold your old battlements and towers, the sea in all its blueness breaking at your feet, the sun setting in a sky of golden glory and gilding your gray stones with its dying rays.

Good-bye to all the friends who have made up our party! If ever these sketches should be printed, and you should read them, I hope you will none of you be offended at anything I have written. In case you should be so, I apologise most humbly beforehand, and trust you will forgive me. And to you, my collaborator, I must also say good-bye for the present.

To you I dedicate these little sketches. If they bring back to you one pleasant thought of the days in Duino,

they will have fulfilled their mission.