Paris, January 3, 1835.—I yesterday received the Duc de Noailles, who had written me a charming letter to ask leave to call. He came to talk to me about his wife's niece, Madame de Chalais, whom he loved as his own child and whom he knew I deeply regretted. We mourned together; then he spoke a little of politics with good sense and good taste, a little of society, and much of Maintenon. He stayed a long time and seemed at his ease and very happy. He expressed the desire to see me often and to become a little intimate with us. He is one of the men whom M. Royer-Collard esteems, is very ugly, and older in appearance than in reality. He is studious, and his manners are excellent and very distinguished. I saw a great deal of his wife when she was Mlle. Alicia de Mortemart, and was living with her sister the Duchesse de Beauvilliers, with whom she went to Saint-Aignan. We are, moreover, nearly related to the Mortemarts. The old Princesse de Chalais, who brought up M. de Talleyrand, was a Mortemart, and the daughter of M. de Vivonne, the brother of Madame de Montespan.

Yesterday I was at the great evening reception at the Tuileries, the Queen having sent word to me by Madame Mollien that I might come and go by the private apartments, and so not have to wait for my carriage. It was the last Court of the season, and I took my daughter-in-law, Madame de ValenÇay. The palace, when lit up, is really superb, and many things look very well—in contrast to many others. This applies to the black coats scattered here and there among the uniforms, the elaborate dresses of some women, and the bourgeois caps of others. There was nothing like disorder, but there was no distinction of rooms or places. There is no procession; the Court makes its entry when all the company is assembled and makes a tour of the ladies, after which the men present file past by themselves. A little man in uniform precedes their Majesties and asks each lady her name, a proceeding which in the case of three quarters of them seems absolutely necessary.

They were very gracious to me, and I think they were pleased that I went on the day of one of the great receptions which may well be called "public." They feared that I would restrict myself to special audiences. That, I think, would have been bad taste. I might perhaps prefer not to go at all, but when one is pleased to see people in private it does not do to hide one's self and repudiate them in public. Whenever she saw me, the Queen herself told me I might go; they opened the little door and I escaped delighted to be relieved of the burden.

Paris, January 7, 1835.—M. MolÉ came to see me and said many curious things—among others, that he "had a mission to purge the Government of doctrinaire influences." He has a terrible hatred of doctrinaires, and he is a good hater. He quite startled me on this subject, and I asked myself if he was equally good at loving. The answer to this embarrassed me and I went no further.

Paris, January 8, 1835.—Madame AdÉlaÏde having asked me to bring Pauline to see her, I did so yesterday. The King told me to wait for him at his sister's which kept me for three hours. The King had just heard of the strange scene among the Mont Saint-Michel people who were amnestied. On the very day of their liberation the Republicans among them (the Carlists said their prayers and went quietly back to La VendÉe) sang the most horrible songs and ended by swearing on their table knives to compass the death of the King. His Majesty had the police reports before him and gave us all the details.

He talked for a long time and on all subjects—I must say with much good sense, ability, clearness, and prudence. He perfectly understood the destiny of England, judged the European situation very acutely, and spoke of his son in a most reasonable way. He said two things in particular to me which struck me very much. The first was that, without having been carried away so far as his son, he had himself fallen into several errors of which experience had cured him. He returned to the subject of the Revolution of July, and was careful to show that in principle he disapproved of it. Thus he told me that his Ministers had wished him to wear the July decoration and that he had refused, saying that he had taken no part in the Revolution except to put a stop to its disastrous consequences. He added, "You never saw me wearing that decoration, Madame!"

He is more and more embarrassed in the choice of his Ambassador in London, for the news received yesterday from Naples proves that SÉbastiani is no longer capable of undertaking the post. I think the King would like M. de Latour-Maubourg, but he is ill and talks of nothing but retiring to the country. M. de Sainte-Aulaire will be here in two or three days, and I imagine that the lot will fall on him. The King and I discussed the possibility of sending Rigny to London, but the King said, "Rigny's only possible successor at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs would be MolÉ, but Guizot would never dare to stay in office with him because Broglie would be furious, and they think they can't do without Guizot in the Chamber." The objection to Sainte-Aulaire is the influence M. Decazes has over him, which is bad in itself and justly displeasing to the King.

M. de Talleyrand's letter of November 13 was at last read to the Council yesterday. It will appear in to-day's Moniteur, and there will also be published a reply from M. de Rigny in the politest terms. They only asked that one word should be changed, and this was agreed to, as it made the sense clearer without altering it. They asked M. de Talleyrand to allow them to say "this propagandist spirit" instead of "certain doctrines."

Yesterday evening I was at the great ball at the Tuileries. M. le Duc d'OrlÉans attacked me again on the subject of the English elections. He is curiously afraid that they may turn out to the advantage of the Tory Cabinet. This is the second time we have had it out on this question. Yesterday I tried to avoid the discussion, but he insisted, saying that "perhaps I should convert him," to which I replied, "I should indeed be proud, Monseigneur, to convert you to your own side."

He had just been re-reading M. de Talleyrand's letter of resignation. He said it was a masterpiece, a real historic document, which would attract a great deal of attention abroad. Nothing, he thought, could be so noble or so simple, and it was the more kind to the King as no one here had the courage to praise him. M. de Talleyrand had, however, showed himself to be terribly conservative, and this would give rise to a great controversy in the press. I answered: "Perhaps, Monseigneur, but what does it matter? Whether M. de Talleyrand speaks or is silent, he is always attacked by ill-disposed papers. At his age, when one is taking leave of the public, one may well take the opportunity of pleasing one's self and showing one's self in one's true colours to be an honest man as one has always been, the friend of one's country and of social order, and, what is more, a man of one's own class, which does not necessarily mean a prejudiced person. You say that M. de Talleyrand alone has the courage here to praise the King—and why? Because he is a gentleman, a great personage, and therefore a Conservative. A monarchy, believe me, must always come back to people like that." He went on, "Oh, yes, the letter will be much admired abroad."—"Yes, Monseigneur, it will be admired abroad, but it will also be admired by every honest man at home, and your Royal Highness will permit me to neglect the rest." Here is another specimen of my conversations with this young Prince, who lacks neither intelligence nor courage nor grace, but whose judgment is still greatly wanting in prudence and balance.

As to the King, he is prudent above all things, and what is more, he is very gracious to me. He came up to me and said, with a smile, "Have you given M. de Talleyrand an account of our long conversation?"—"Of course, Sire, it was too full of interest not to make me anxious to give him that pleasure."—"Ah, then I am sure you will not have forgotten my story about the July decoration."—"It was the first thing I told M. de Talleyrand, and I am going to tell my son and my grandson. I wish my descendants to remember it in order that they may in the future repeat what I now say every day, which is that the King has a great understanding." It was said long ago that when flattery did not succeed it was the fault of the flatterer, not of the flattery. I think that yesterday the flatterer was quite efficient!

Rochecotte, March 12, 1835.—Our letters from Paris announce that M. Thiers' refusal to remain in the Ministry with the Duc de Broglie as President of the Council and Minister of Foreign affairs (a refusal which the King, who does not wish to be entirely delivered up to the doctrinaires, will not hear of) is again stopping the machine. The Chamber of Deputies is beginning to get excited, and it is impossible to see clearly what the result of all this will be.

There is to be a collection at Saint-Roch for the Asylums directed by Madame AdÉlaÏde who accordingly has the choice of collectors. She has chosen Mesdames de Flahaut and Thiers. The former, who is said to be furious at the choice of her partner, has refused, and this little difficulty has contrived to attract some attention among the many more important and insoluble problems of the moment.

Rochecotte, March 14, 1835.—Yesterday's letters leave no doubt as to the dÉnouement of the Ministerial crisis.

It is practically the crisis of last November over again. Then Marshal GÉrard was replaced by Marshal Mortier; now M. de Broglie replaces Mortier in the Presidency and Rigny gives up to him Foreign Affairs and takes War until the arrival of Maison, to whom a courier has been sent. If the latter accepts, the Embassy at St. Petersburg will be vacant, but it is thought that he will refuse. In that case will Rigny remain definitely as Minister of War or will he go to Naples, giving place to some secondary general? No one knows yet. Thus, with the addition of Broglie and Maison, and the subtraction of Rigny, practically every one remains at his post. It was hardly worth making such a fuss about!

This is what I hear as to M. Thiers, who at first refused to take office with M. de Broglie. He was harried and worried in every direction, Mignet and Cousin trying to dissuade him, Salvandy to make him accept. During this period a numerously attended meeting of deputies assembled at M. Fulchiron's. Thiers, hearing of this, said that if this meeting asked him he would accept office. Salvandy hurried with a deputation to obtain Thiers' consent, which was given in order that he might not be accused of ruining the only possible combination, and because he is backed by a solemn expression of opinion from a parliamentary majority. It is thought, however, that he will soon repent of having yielded. The balance is no longer even. They will be two to one against him in the Council, and conditions are quite against the present arrangement lasting.

I have a letter from M. MolÉ which says, "You have left a gap here which nothing could fill; no one has felt this more than I have in the last few days. I hope, I may say I am sure, that you would have approved of me. You are one of the very few people of whose approval I think before I act. We have not been fighting about individuals but for the Amnesty. A complete general Amnesty was my condition. Those who resigned in order to get their way provoked a demonstration against it in the Chamber. I alone maintained that facts were on our side. However, some who, like me, were for the Amnesty lost courage, and the result is that the old Ministry is being reconstructed under M. de Broglie. Several of its members are by no means proud of this, but they are all accepting a position on which the future will pronounce judgment as well as on many other things."

Rochecotte, March 16, 1835.—M. Royer-Collard writes to me as follows about the late Ministerial crisis: "It was on Tuesday the 10th that the King asked Guizot to summon M. de Broglie. No doubt you expect to hear of the insolence of the conqueror. Nothing of the sort. M. de Broglie, coached by Guizot, had laid aside not only his arrogance, but even his personal dignity which should not be surrendered even in exchange for the Presidency of the Council. He expressed regret in humble terms for the past and promised to be good in the future. You may take this for certain—the Necker pride, which is the same type as the Broglie pride, has given way."

Further on, À propos of the paper signed by the so-called Fulchiron meeting about Thiers, M. Royer-Collard says: "It is certain that Thiers has capitulated. He accepts, but is separated and disengaged from the doctrinaires whom he has humiliated. He returns whereas Guizot stays. No one, I think, gains by this patch work."

Still further on there is this. "When M. MolÉ came to see me yesterday, I embraced him as I would the survivor of a shipwreck. He comes out of the matter best of all, and he has surpassed himself."

Rochecotte, March 23, 1835.—Yesterday evening I had a very gracious reply from the Duchesse de Broglie to the letter of congratulation I had addressed to her. She dissembles her political triumph by the use of humble Biblical quotations. The note of her letter is kindliness, and in fact I am pleased with her; she is a deserving person.

I had also written to M. Guizot on the occasion of his brother's death. He did not reply before the period of mourning was over; he did finally answer however, and yesterday there came from him a very cajoling letter. The only phrase dealing with politics is: "I am one of those who should say that the crisis is over, but I am also one of those who know that nothing is ever finished in this world, and that one has to begin again every day. Our life consists of a continual effort to secure a success which is always incomplete. I accept this without illusions, and without discouragement."

I shall add an extract from a letter from M. Royer-Collard which also came yesterday evening. "All that has happened, the dÉnouement as well as the crisis, is very sad. The King and Thiers have, as you see, been conquered by Guizot, and, as a result, M. de Talleyrand as well, in what remains to him of public life. It is true that this victory bears no resemblance to a triumph, and makes none of the noise in the world which a triumph causes. It is obscured by the uncertainty of things in the Chamber. Guizot however is a skilled intriguer, and his obstinacy is in proportion to his presumption and to his burning thirst for personal predominance. He will never stop till he is conquered by the force of circumstances. I doubt whether there exists anywhere at present a force which would be sufficient to conquer him. Thiers had the satisfaction of making them wait thirty-six hours for him and of going his own way in the tribune, but the fact remains that he gave in, and that it was the fear of Guizot and the little doctrinaires that prevented him from entering the GÉrard-MolÉ Ministry, much as he would have liked to do so. Till something else turns up he is absorbed in the general submission. From this chaos M. MolÉ has emerged with an increased reputation of which you may rest assured that he owes part to you. You came into his life more than once and brought succour. He likes you very much and feels the need of your approbation. I owe his friendship to his belief that I helped to bring you and him together."

Rochecotte, May 10, 1835.—Yesterday I had a curious account of what passed at the secret committee of the House of Peers on the form of judgment.[49] Several Peers declared that they could not get rid of the matter by sentencing the accused in default, that is to say by sentencing empty benches. Of this opinion were MM. BarthÈ, Sainte-Aulaire, SÉguier and, it is believed, de Bastard. M. Decazes and some others contended that the cases should be taken separately. M. Cousin reproached M. Pasquier in the most violent manner for not having heard counsel for the defence, and the Chamber for being weak enough to uphold the decision of its President. M. Pasquier in his reply was sentimental and pathetic, but the most serious incident was the declaration of M. MolÉ who said in so many words that if they passed sentence on the accused in his absence he would protest. This declaration had a great effect, and several Peers, among them the Duc de Noailles, adopted M. MolÉ's view. It is added: "You can easily see that this declaration is the nucleus of a new MolÉ Ministry if the impossibility of carrying on the case should force the present Ministers to resign. On the other hand it would be so dangerous to be weak in the presence of such accused that the necessity of standing fast will override all other considerations. It remains to be seen how it is to be done. This case is a hydra!"

Langenau (Switzerland), August 18, 1835.—This little chronicle has been interrupted for some time. I have often been ill, and found any kind of application impossible. In this way I became more and more indolent, and got tired of writing down my own thoughts after having so long dealt with those of others. Then came removals and travels and all sorts of things which have combined to interrupt my old habits. My mind has been distracted by too many new scenes; I have had no time for the reflection and steady work necessary for writing, and my inspiration was at an end. I had lived prodigally for four years and my small stock of provisions was exhausted. In short, I may repeat the rather unfilial remark of M. Cousin, who in speaking of his father, who had become imbecile, observed, "only the animal survives."

My notes have recorded in their proper sequence the visit of M. le Duc d'OrlÉans to ValenÇay, the drama (as I may well call it) of M. de Talleyrand's resignation of his Embassy to London; the change of Ministry at Paris, which only lasted three days; that of the English Cabinet, which after three months retired on meeting a Parliament which they had imprudently renewed. How much these events displeased those about me, how a many-sided intrigue made SÉbastiani Ambassador at London, a post to which M. de Rigny secretly aspired—all this is well known, and I shall say no more about it.

At Maintenon, where I spent some hours with the Duc de Noailles, I had the pleasure of hearing a long account of the visit of Charles X. in 1830, when he left Rambouillet to embark at Cherbourg. The Duc de Noailles describes this dramatic scene with emotion, and consequently with talent. Unfortunately, I did not write it all down the very day he told it me, and now I fear that I should spoil it if I tried to recollect it. Some day or other I shall go to Maintenon again, and instead of the story, which I shall not hear again, I shall be able to tell what has become of this venerable and curious old house in the hands of the Duc de Noailles, who has undertaken many improvements.

Our quiet stay at Rochecotte might also have furnished several pages which would have contained the piquant anecdotes of M. de la BesnardiÈre; the frequently agitated correspondence of Madame AdÉlaÏde during the re-entry last March of the doctrinaire Ministry, and some characteristic traits of M. de Talleyrand grappling with his comparative solitude, almost continually trying to put other people in the wrong in order to manufacture emotions for himself, sometimes putting himself in the wrong, and thus conducting a solitary warfare in the midst of a profound peace.

I should have set down, during the days which Madame de Balbi spent with me, some account of the many-sided vivacity which is so characteristic of her age and type of mind. Her conversation was full of it, and what she says is almost always connected with scenes and persons and situations which prevent it from being trivial and make it material for serious history. If I had been in form at that time I should certainly not have passed over in silence the loquacious and pompous figure of the Comte Alexis de Saint-Priest, a malicious, and indeed a grotesque person, though not without wit and animation, and a striking contrast to the restraint, good taste, and incisiveness of Madame de Balbi. M. de Saint-Priest's total want of manners is his most unpleasant feature. He thinks he is a born diplomatist, but his temperament is certainly anything but diplomatic. He is also a man of letters, and is writing historical memoirs, for which he thought himself entitled to request Madame de Balbi, on the very first day they met at Rochecotte, to communicate to him her letters from Louis XVIII., of which no doubt she must have a great many. This was too much not to cast a shade of gravity over Madame de Balbi's habitual gaiety; and she said, very drily, that she would be wanting in every sentiment of the respect and gratitude which she entertained towards the late King if a single one of these letters was published or even shown to any one during her lifetime.

During the month of June which I spent at Paris the King very graciously showed us Versailles, which should have impelled me to record here the profound impression made upon me by the first plan and the actual restoration. Fast as one forgets everything at Paris, Versailles remains dazzlingly clear in my recollection; all I feared was to have too much to say. I doubt if I could have revisited the Palace under more curious circumstances. On one side was M. de Talleyrand who reconstructed for us the Versailles of Louis XV., Louis XVI. and the Constituent Assembly, and on the other King Louis-Philippe. In the middle of the hall of 1792 the King was carried back to the earliest memories of his youth and made them live again by his words no less than by the fine portraits and interesting pictures he has collected. I had visited Versailles in April 1812 with the Emperor Napoleon who then dreamed of establishing his court there, and had gone to inspect the works which he had put in hand and which first extricated the palace from the ruin and disorder caused by the Revolution. The second visit I paid to Versailles might well recall the first! M. Fontaine, the clever architect, and I were the only people who could compare both restorations.

Berne, August 19, 1835.—The month of June which I spent in Paris was full of incident of all kinds. I am really ashamed that I have allowed the impressions of these to become so feeble that hardly a trace remains. I assisted at several conversations between the King and Madame AdÉlaÏde. There were the little intrigues of the doctrinaires diffidently developing around me under the auspices of M. Guizot, in whom I have often remarked an easy hypocrisy which seems to me quite a new variety of charlatanism. All these, the alternations of exaltation and despondency through which M. Thiers kept passing, and a thousand other things which gave each day a character of its own, would have been well worthy of a few notes. I should have said something of a dinner at the Villa Orsini given by M. Thiers, where a motley collection of fifteen people gave the party a stamp of bad taste which embarrassed me and made M. de Talleyrand observe, "We have been to a Directoire dinner party."

Personal matters also have not been uninteresting. There was the death of young Marie Suchet and her mother's grief, the confirmation of my daughter Pauline on the occasion of which I met the Archbishop of Paris after five years of separation. All these events, so to speak, marked out one day from another and kept them from being confused one with another.

I was the more struck with my interview with M. de QuÉlen, as it was the occasion of a conversation which I do not wish to go unrecorded. The Archbishop returned to a subject which has always much concerned him, namely, the conversion of M. de Talleyrand, and spoke of it with the same vivacity as in the days of M. le Cardinal de PÉrigord. He repeated how eagerly he wished for this event, assured me that he had gladly accepted all the tribulations of his episcopal life in the hope that God would vouchsafe as a recompense for his own sufferings the return of M. de Talleyrand into the bosom of the Church. He exhorted me vehemently to co-operate by my own efforts in so meritorious a work, and added that, knowing how trustworthy I was, and, moreover, believing that it was well that I should know what he intended to do, he would confide to me that he had thought that in the last phrase of M. de Talleyrand's letter of resignation of November 13 last there was a return to serious thoughts, and that he had become convinced that the moment had come to act energetically. He had therefore written straight to the Pope at Rome to inquire what line the Holy Father thought he should follow. "The Holy Father's answer was not long in coming," said M. de QuÉlen; "it refers to M. de Talleyrand in kindly and affectionate terms. It gives me the right to absolve and reconcile him, and it extends my powers so far as to permit me to delegate them to the prelates of the various dioceses in which M. de Talleyrand might be attacked by his last illness, in particular to the Archbishops of Bourges and Tours. Finally, the Pope even showed a willingness to write personally to M. de Talleyrand." In my replies to M. de QuÉlen I necessarily temporised. I made it clear in the most precise terms that any direct overture would probably produce an effect the very opposite of that which was desired. For my own part I could never take other than a purely passive part in the matter. Assuredly I should be equally averse from any action contrary to the object desired by the Church, as from any which might disturb one for whose peace I am responsible, without securing the desired effect, which, if it ever is secured, will be due to a voice more mighty and more powerful than any human one.

The Archbishop also spoke to me of his own tribulations, of those he has experienced since 1830; they have been both strange and sad. I regret that latterly he has not been able to forget them a little more, and that when he returned to the Tuileries after the attempt of July 28,[50] and reopened Notre Dame to the King, he did not accompany what he did with more frank and more definitely pacific words. He would then have avoided the reproach of speaking to two addresses, one at Prague, the other at Paris. The Archbishop's misfortune is that he has not quite the intellectual grasp which is necessary to play the difficult part which circumstances have imposed upon him. Neither has he the intense energy which redeems, and sometimes more than redeems, intellectual shortcomings. No doubt his sentiments are excellent, and his intentions admirable. He is kind, charitable, affectionate, grateful, sincerely attached to his duties, and always ready to face martyrdom, but he is too ready to receive impressions of every kind. It is easy to gain his confidence and to abuse it by pushing him into a path the end of which he does not perceive in time. He is afraid of criticism and is always provoking it by a hesitancy and a want of balance which arise from a vacillating intelligence, and the scruples of a conscience which is never certain whether what was good yesterday is good to-day. He would have been a good pastor in ordinary times; but in our day, in which no one seems suited to the place he occupies, the attitude he has taken up has made neither for his reputation with the public nor the peace of his private life. However, as he has many noble and good qualities, and as he has the deepest interest in all who bear the name of Talleyrand, which is much to his credit as it arises from gratitude to the Cardinal de PÉrigord, I wish with all my heart that his life may be made more tranquil than it has been in these recent years, and that his troubles may come to an end. Another man might have known how to turn them to his advantage; he can do nothing but succumb.

I have enjoyed the four weeks which I have lately been spending at Baden-Baden. I found many old acquaintances and had some agreeable meetings. There, too, I ought to have fixed my recollections by putting down a few lines about Madame la Princesse d'Orange, that pattern of all that education should make a Princess, about the King of WÜrtemberg and his daughters the Princesses Sophie and Marie, about the ill-concealed hostility of Mesdames de Lieven and de Nesselrode, about the genial philosophy of M. de Falk, about the fine talk of M. and Madame de Zea, in fact about everything good and bad which struck me in this gathering, of which each member had a distinction of his own.

They all group themselves more or less about Madame de Lieven, whose former glories and recent misfortune (the deaths of her two youngest sons in the same week), excited sympathy or imposed duties. I was very sorry for her, and her position seemed to me to contain a great lesson. She has lost her way and wanders at large. She is not resigned, and finds no pleasure in her regrets. She finds nothing but a cruel void in the distraction which she demands of every one. She finds no pleasure in occupation; she lives in the street, in public places, talks inconsequently, and never listens, laughs, cries and acts at a venture, asks questions without interest in the answers. This misery is the worse, as four months of sorrow have not taught her patience. She is already astonished that her regrets have lasted so long; but, as she will not submit herself to trouble, it will not wear itself out; she prolongs it by struggling against it. In the combat sorrow triumphs and the victim cries out, but the sound is discordant and awakes no sympathetic echo in the hearts of others. I have seen people, one after another, cease to pity her and care for her: she saw it too and was humiliated. She seemed grateful to me for continuing to be kind to her. She left me with the conviction that, if I had not been a consolation to her, I was at least a resource, and I am very glad of it.

It was a pleasure to me to see the lovely Lake of Constance again a few days ago. Three years ago I dreamed of taking a small chÂteau which was there. It has been burned down. I am now thinking of a cottage; I should be sorry not to have some shelter on this promontory from which the view is so rich, so varied, and so tranquil, and where it would be so pleasant to rest.

From Wolfsberg where I lived I several times went to Arenenberg to see the Duchesse de Saint-Leu; she seemed to me rather more tranquil than three years ago. Madame Campan's pretentious pupil, the Tragedy Queen, has given place to a good stout Swiss house-wife who talks with freedom, receives hospitably, and is pleased to see any one who comes to divert her in her solitude. Her little house is picturesque, but intended only for summer weather, though she lives there almost all the year round. The interior is small and narrow, and seems to have been made only for flowers, reeds, matting, and divans—it is in fact no more than a summer-house. The relics of imperial magnificence which are heaped together there are not altogether in keeping. Canova's marble statue of the Empress Josephine requires a larger setting. I should have liked with the stroke of an enchanter's wand to have transported to the Versailles Museum the portrait of the Emperor as General Bonaparte by Gros, which is certainly the finest modern portrait that I know. It ought to be the property of the nation, for the military and political history as well as all the glories and destinies of France are embodied in this perfect picture. In a little cabinet in a looking-glass case there are some precious relics mixed with a number of insignificant trifles. The cashmere scarf worn by General Bonaparte at the Battle of the Pyramids, the portrait of the Empress Marie-Louise and her son on which the dying eyes of the exile of St. Helena were fixed, and several other interesting relics lie there side by side with wretched little scarabs and a thousand trifling things without interest or value. Thus an eyeglass left by the Emperor Alexander at Malmaison, and a fan given by Citizen Talleyrand to Mlle. Hortense de Beauharnais, preserved in the midst of the memories of the Empire, show great freedom of thought and a certain amount of indifference, or else a remarkable facility of humour and character.

True I saw the Empress Josephine and Madame de Saint-Leu ask to be received by Louis XVIII. a fortnight after the fall of Napoleon. In London I saw Lucien Bonaparte make Lady Aldborough introduce him to the Duke of Wellington, and at the Congress of Vienna EugÈne de Beauharnais sang to oblige the company. Ancient dynasties may be wanting in ability; new ones are always lacking in dignity.

Fribourg, August 20, 1835.—It would be, if not dignified, at any rate well bred, on Madame de Saint-Leu's part if she restored to the town of Aix-la-Chapelle the magnificent reliquary worn by Charlemagne, and found on his neck when his tomb was opened. This reliquary, which contains a piece of the True Cross under a great sapphire, was given to the Empress Josephine by the Chapter of the Cathedral in order to conciliate her favour. It must have been a painful sacrifice for them to part with this relic, to which it would have been a piece of delicacy and good breeding to put an end. What might be an appropriate possession for the successor of Charlemagne is a most unsuitable one for the mistress of the Arenenberg.

I have little to say of the journey which brought me here. Saint-Gall has a charming situation. The interior of the town is very ugly; the church and the adjoining buildings, which are now the seat of the Cantonal Government, have been restored too recently, and they missed their effect on me. Nothing recalls the strange glories of the ancient Prince Bishops of Saint-Gall. The nave of the church is fine, but there is none of the calmness of antiquity in it. The bridge, which you cross to reach the new road to Heinrichsbad, is a picturesque incident in a wooded country.

Heinrichsbad is quite a new establishment; and the Alpine situation of the isolated hotel affords opportunities for the goats'-milk cure. The part of Appenzell which we crossed on the way to Meynach reminded me more of the Pyrenees than any other part of Switzerland.

I was pleased to see the Lake of Zurich again; but the Lake of Zug, along which I passed the next day, being more shaded and retired, seemed to me even more lovely. There is a view of almost all of it from the Convent of the Nuns of S. Francis, whose house is high above the lake. I arrived as the ladies were saying Mass—not very well it must be confessed, but the organ and voices which come from invisible persons and an unseen place always affect me too deeply to allow me to be critical. The nuns are employed in the education of girls. Sister Seraphina, who showed me over the Convent, speaks French well, and her cell is extremely clean. The rule of the Convent did not seem to me very strict.

The chapel of Kussnach—on the very spot where Gessler was killed by William Tell, has some historic interest no doubt, but as regards situation it is far inferior to that on the Lake of Four Cantons, at the place where Tell leapt out of his persecutor's boat and pushed it back into the raging storm.

The position of Lucerne, which I knew, struck me again as very picturesque. The lion carved in the rock near Lucerne, after Thorwaldsen's design, is an imposing monument—a fine thought well rendered.

Berne, which I reached by way of the Immersthal, a pleasant valley covered with the most beautiful vegetation and ornamented with charming villages, has the aspect of a great city, thanks to its numerous fine streets and buildings. It is a melancholy place, however, and even in summer one feels how cold it must be in winter. The terrace, which is planted with trees and hangs high above the Aar, opposite to the mountains and the glaciers of the Oberland, is a splendid promenade, to which the HÔtel de la Monnaie on one side and the Cathedral on the other make a fine finish.

The road from Berne to this place has no remarkable features. The first view of Fribourg is striking and uncommon. The site is rough and wild; the towers thrown on the surrounding heights, the depth at which the river, or rather the torrent, flows at the foot of the rock on which the town is placed, and the hanging bridge above the houses, all make the scene exceedingly picturesque. The interior of the town, with its numerous convents and its population of Jesuits in long black robes and broad hats, is like a vast monastery, in which there is not wanting, on occasion, a faint flavour of the Inquisition. It is not in this mysterious and cloistered place that one feels oneself drinking in the classic atmosphere of Helvetian liberty. The new Jesuit College is so placed as to dominate the town, and the influence due to its importance is very great. To judge by the little which the traveller is permitted to see, this establishment is on the vastest scale and perfectly managed. There are three hundred and fifty children being educated there, most of them French; the buildings appear to me to be intended for an even larger number. Besides this great boarding-school the Jesuits have their own house adjoining, and in addition a country place about a league from the town.

I went to see the Cathedral, which would be quite unworthy of notice were it not for the organ which was playing as I entered and which seemed to me the most harmonious and the least harsh of any I have heard.

I am very glad to have seen Fribourg. I passed through eleven years ago without examining it. I now understand better the kind of part which this town plays in the religious history of the present time.

Lausanne, August 21, 1835.—The broad and easy road from Fribourg crosses a country partly wooded, partly cultivated, smiling and varied but not exactly picturesque, except at Lussan. The scenery does not become grand until the mountain chain which surrounds Lake Leman appears at the end of a pine wood, which for a long time conceals both the lake and the town of Lausanne.

Like all Swiss towns Lausanne is ugly inside. Its situation is picturesque; the variations of level are inconvenient for the inhabitants, but they provide several terraces from which the view is very fine. Those at the Cathedral and the Castle are the most thought of. I prefer the Montbadon promenade which is not so high, but from which one can see the country better. There are too many roofs in the other views.

Bex, August 23, 1835.—Less of wall and vineyard and a few more trees would make the road from Lausanne to Vevey charming. The country does not quite take my fancy until Vevey is reached. Chillon above all impressed me by its situation and its associations. I should like to have re-read Lord Byron's verses while I was going over the famous dungeons. His name alone which is scrawled in charcoal on one of the pillars of the prison (the same to which FranÇois de Bonnivard was chained for six years), is enough to make this dungeon poetic.

At Villeneuve the road leaves Lake Leman and plunges into a wild and narrow gorge. The sharp and curious indentations of the rocks which flank the road supply the only beauty which adorns the four long leagues to Bex. Quite near, on a spur of rock veined with many colours, and half hidden in a clump of trees, you can see the Castle of St. Triphon, which seemed to me very fine.

Bex itself is a village which bears no resemblance to the pretty villages of the Canton of Berne. Everything already suggests the neighbourhood of Piedmont. We are all at the Auberge de l'Union which is the only one in the place and is neither good nor bad. The sulphur baths established here did not succeed; neither did the goat's milk cure. In fact the place is bare of resources and very sombre and dull, though for me it is lighted up by the rosy cheeks of Pauline and the brightness of her blue eyes. I was delighted to get here.

I got a letter on my arrival which had been left for me by Admiral de Rigny on his way to Naples. He tells me that he has found everywhere on his way a definite belief that the Duchesse de Berry was at ChambÉry on the 24th, and that on the 30th, Berryer who was going to take the waters at Aix-en-Savoie disappeared a few hours after the attempt on the King's life in Paris, and afterwards reappeared at Aix much upset. Like M. de Rigny I have found this version of the story current everywhere. The Swiss papers also describe Madame la Duchesse de Berry, but nothing is certain.

At Maintenon the Duc de Noailles has just been having a party of clever and intriguing people. M. de Chateaubriand, Madame RÉcamier, the Vicomtesse de Noailles, M. AmpÈre, in fact the whole morning congregation of the Abbaye-aux-Bois.[51] I am sorry to hear it: the Duc de Noailles should not forsake the high road for such a byway.

From what I hear from Touraine I see that the atrocity at Paris of the 28th July,[52] has aroused indignation there, an indignation, however, which feared to speak above its breath and which is perhaps even now forgotten. We live in a time when so many monstrosities are produced on the stage, when books are so full of them, and when they are so common in real life that the public have supped full with horrors and have become indifferent to them and quite familiarised with crime. The town of Tours, a place so essentially calm, has distinguished itself by refusing to send addresses from the Tribunal, the Conseil Municipal and the Conseil d'Arrondissement. Two rogues, glibly arguing about the letter of the law, were enough to set all the indifferent at their ease. It appears however that a creditable number of the Garde Nationale showed themselves the day of the funeral service and sent an address with some show of cordiality. When one sees the most violent and criminal passions on the one side and on the other an exhibition of laziness and indifference, one wonders whether the repressive laws asked for by the French Ministry will be enough. Perhaps they will only irritate!

This is an evil age of ours; good centuries are rare but there is no example of one that is worse than this. I pity with all my heart those who are called upon to govern it, M. Thiers, for example, whose weariness and anxiety appear in a letter which I received from him yesterday from which I give an extract. After speaking of the personal danger from which he escaped at the time of the attempt of July 28, he adds, "But my only trouble, and it is overwhelming, is the immense responsibility of my position. I am on my feet day and night. I go from the Prefecture of Police to the Tuileries, to the Chamber, without a moment's rest, and without being sure that I have foreseen everything, for the fertility of evil is infinite, as is the case in every disordered society in which every criminal has formed a hope that he may attain anything by setting the world on fire. There are some scoundrels who would blow up this planet if they were allowed. On the day after the horrible massacre all that occurred to them to say was 'we shall see:' these are the very words of the leader of the assassins. I know not when I shall have the rest which will be the reward of these troubles, nor what issue out of my affliction will be vouchsafed to me."

Immediately after the explosion of the infernal machine, when she learned that her husband and children had not perished, our good Queen said, "How did my sons behave?" an inquiry which I think was worthy of her. The young Princes behaved with touching devotion. They gathered closely round the King, and the next day, when traces of a bullet were discovered on the King's forehead, the Duc d'OrlÉans said, "And yet I made myself as tall as I could yesterday."

While Madame RÉcamier is at Maintenon with the Duchesse de Noailles, my sister-in-law, the Princesse de Poix, goes to the Duchesse d'AbrantÈs' Mondays where one meets Madame Victor Hugo! Wit and politics have strangely intermingled all society, good and bad!

M. le Duc de Nemours is going to London. He is nice-looking, dignified, serious and reserved, with a great air of youth and nobility. One would expect him to have a great success in England, but his excessive shyness so completely deprives him of all ease and grace in conversation that he will perhaps be rated at much less than his real value.

Of all the congratulatory letters written to the King of the French by foreign sovereigns on the occasion of the attempt of July 28, the most cordial was that of the King of the Netherlands. This seems to me very good taste on his part, and I am very glad of it. I have always thought that since his misfortunes the King of the Netherlands has shown ability, readiness, and a persistency which, whatever his ultimate success, will assure him a fine page in the history of our time in which there is so little that is good to say about anybody.

While the King of the French submits to escorts and measures of precaution, and is adopting a more Royal state, the President of his Council comes to diplomatic dinners at the Tuileries in coloured trousers and without decorations, and this Minister is the Duc de Broglie!

Jerome Bonaparte and all his family have left Florence and are now at Vevey; the cholera is driving every one out of Italy into Switzerland.

Bex, August 24, 1835.—The weather having cleared, we have been to see the salt mines near Bex, which are the only ones in Switzerland, and do not produce enough to supply the needs of the country. We did not go far into the mine because of the damp cold which we felt gaining on us, but we saw the refining plant in detail. The salt seemed to me very pure and white.

We returned through the valley of Cretet along the mountain stream of Davanson, which is the fullest and the most impetuous I have seen in this part of the Alps. Its course is long and its descent extremely rapid. It is caught in a narrow gorge, the sides of which are high and wooded. It supplies motive power for many factories, and for this purpose is divided into many little canals and aqueducts. These establishments are nearly always hung, as it were, on blocks of rock which seem to have become detached from the high peaks and to be suspended by a miracle over the abyss. All the road as far as M. de Gautard's little chÂteau is delightful, and I was somewhat reconciled to the country, the first sight of which was a disagreeable surprise.

I am just come back from a very interesting excursion. The chief object was the cascade of Pisse-Vache, a fine straight foam-white column of water which throws far and wide on all sides a damp mist, and leaps in a single jet from a breach in rocks rising into two needle-like peaks. The water of the cascade soon mingles with that of the Rhone, near the bridge where one crosses the river. The current is almost equally rapid from the source to the mouth and is particularly so in the narrow gorge through which it passes on leaving the Valais to enter the Canton de Vaud. The frontier is at Saint Maurice, a picturesque village, where the convents, the castle, the old town and the fortifications, lying unevenly on the perpendicular rocks, present a quaint spectacle. The gate of this town is, so to speak, formed by the narrow passage between two great rocks which separate the two cantons. From this point on the right the view reaches to the Canton de Vaud, ending in the distance beyond Lake Leman at the Jura, and on the left towards the wilderness of the Valais you can see as far as the snowy chain of Saint Bernard.

What, in spite of everything, spoiled the expedition for me was the character of the population. CrÉtins are numerous, and even those who are not so afflicted are horribly disfigured by goÎtres. The women sometimes have as many as three. The water coming from melted snow, and the deficiency of sunlight, which penetrates very little into the narrow gorges of the Valais, are responsible for the frequency of this disease.

Geneva, August 26, 1835.—We left Bex this morning and went along the Rhone to the point at which it enters Lake Leman. Thence to Thonon by a pleasant road boldly tunnelled in the rock and built out over the lake. The view was a picturesque mixture of superb lawns, lovely chestnut trees and majestic rocks, which form a very fine spectacle. From Thonon the road is monotonous until within two leagues from Geneva. There the natural beauty of the country is enhanced by numerous ornamental gardens cared for as well as they are in England, by pretty country houses and magnificent avenues, the whole being grouped like the town of Geneva itself in an amphitheatre round the lake.

We are at the Hotel des Bergues. My window looks out on a new wire bridge which spans the Rhone and joins the two parts of the town, leading at the same time to a small island on which is the statue of Jean-Jacques Rousseau surrounded by a clump of great trees. A great part of the lake is simply covered with little boats; nothing could be gayer or more animated.

Geneva, August 27, 1835.—The Duc de PÉrigord whom I met yesterday here, and who is a good authority about everything that concerns the Archbishop of Paris, explained to me as follows the rapprochement of the Archbishop with the present Government. After the attempt of July 28, the CurÉ of Saint Roch, whose church has become the place of worship of the Royal Family since the destruction of Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois, went to the King, who intimated to him his intentions as to the funeral service. The CurÉ, whose name is the AbbÉ Olivier, observed that after the funeral service a Te Deum in thanksgiving for the preservation of the King and his children would be an obvious and proper ceremony. The King adopted this idea adding: "This Te Deum will have to take place at Saint-Roch as the Archbishop continues to oppose my Government." The CurÉ of Saint-Roch immediately informed the Archbishop of the innovation which his attitude was about to cause, and it was this which made M. de QuÉlen decide to go to the King. He was received and thereafter officiated at the Invalides and at Notre-Dame. I shall hear later what passed between the King and him.

I hear from Paris that Marshal Maison, who takes no part in the debates in the Chamber, takes out every day in a phaeton, at the fashionable hour, a young lady whom he has brought back from St. Petersburg. He is the dandy of the Cabinet!

Geneva, August 29, 1835.—The environs of Geneva have improved as much as the interior of the town. Every year new country houses replace and augment the number of those which used to cover the coasts of the lake. The most elaborate belongs to a banker named Bartholony. The Italian taste predominates in the construction of these villas; the gardens and the arrangement of the flowers recall England. The frame of the picture alone is Swiss and it could not be more grandiose. Coppet, which is further from Geneva, has no particular style. It is now occupied by the young Madame de StaËl who lives there in all the austerity of early Christian widowhood, and it has a deserted and lugubrious air. The village separates the chÂteau from the lake and blocks the view. M. and Madame Necker and the famous Madame de StaËl are buried in a part of the park shut off by brushwood and very difficult to approach. Moreover, by the orders of the dead, no one (not even their children) is allowed to enter this enclosure. The rest of the Park is full of fine trees which, however, are too close together. They are wanting in style and neatness like the general impression produced by the whole place. Strangers are no longer admitted to the house. I had been there on a former occasion. The apartments are well arranged and well enough proportioned, but they are furnished without taste or elegance. It is in every way an establishment characteristic of a Puritan banker, vast and austere but neither noble nor imposing.

The position of Ferney is very agreeable; the house is embellished by terraces and vegetation. In itself it is small and all on the old French model of last century. The salon and bedchamber of M. de Voltaire alone remain open to the public and consecrated to the memory of the great mind who, during thirty years made this little manor the fire from whence issued so many dazzling flames of wit. We stayed a long time examining the little relics preserved by the gardener. When M. de Voltaire died he was fourteen; he recites his story well, for I do not believe that it is his own.

In a letter I had yesterday from the Duc d'OrlÉans occurs the following passage: "On the day on which the laws under discussion are voted, and this dangerous weapon is placed in the hands of the executive, the difficulty will begin. It is nothing to have got them through, the trouble is to carry them into execution. Will they be able to carry on this unceasing struggle? Will they be able each day to defeat the stratagems, and to resist the tenacious purpose of men who are driven to desperation and have only one thought and one end? Hostile critics here assert that it is much more difficult to govern regularly and coherently than to carry new laws by violent speeches while not even enforcing those which are already provided. For my part all I say is that, now Ministers have involved us in so grave a struggle, I can find no words with which to describe their conduct if they do not make a proper use of the powers which they have thought it their duty to demand, or if they try to transfer to others the burden of executing what they alone have conceived and insisted on in what they believe to be their own interests."

Lons-le-Saulnier, August 31, 1835.—I got here last night very late, after having traversed the wild, melancholy and arid Jura. Great efforts have been used there to create an easy road, on which however you get on slowly owing to the constant ascents and descents. The roads themselves, cut out of the living rock and protected by encasements skilfully contrived so as to prevent infiltration of water, are perfectly smooth, wide and well protected against the dangers of this rugged country. From the heights of Saint Cergue I cast a last look at the lovely lake of Geneva and the Alps. The view stretches out magnificently before one and leaves a fine image in one's memory.

Arlay, September 1, 1835.—This place, which was part of the ancient duchy of Isenghien, came to Prince Pierre d'Arenberg from his maternal grandmother, the heiress of the house of Isenghien, which descended from those of ChÂlons and Orange. The nobility of such an origin is unquestionable, and is much in the mind of the present owner. The view from my room, and in fact from all parts of the house, is wide without being picturesque; and in this it is like the house itself, which is vast and well restored, but rather bare of furniture and rather chilly, as the ridge above it comes between it and the south.

On the summit of this ridge there are the ruins of the Gothic manor, which have not character enough to be interesting. The approaches are short, there being no other avenue than a courtyard planted with trees. There are many things wanting which are necessary to make it agreeable and effective, but it is a substantial piece of wreckage saved from the revolutionary catastrophe. The master of the house and the Duchesse de PÉrigord received me with the utmost kindness.

I received here a letter from M. Royer-Collard, who was returning to his country house "after having done what he believed to be his duty and due to his honour in the Chamber," and without waiting for the vote on the law as a whole. His speech, the thought, sentiment and language of which I admire (he did not intend it to create a sensation or to carry people away), was made to satisfy the demands of his conscience. He also wished to make his position quite clear (a long silence had made some people uncertain about it) and to lay down clearly the line of his opinions. This is why, though far from well, he made this speech which is so short and yet so full of matter. It is the first time that, without exciting any murmuring or appearing ridiculous, hypocritical or imprudent, any one has praised, honoured, and defended the peers, and that the spirit of religion, the words God and Providence, have been heard in the precincts of the Chamber of Deputies. The respect with which such words were heard seemed to me, more than anything else, to place M. Royer-Collard apart in the exalted regions to which he naturally belongs.

The man in whose pay Fieschi seems to have been, and whose name is PÉpin, has at last been arrested. It was a great triumph, but—he has escaped! A few hours after his arrest, following an order of the Court, this PÉpin had been taken to his house from the Conciergerie where he was confined in order that a search might be made in his presence. He was taken by a Commissaire de Police and two men only, and the moment he got home he disappeared! It is extraordinary that a man whose arrest and safe keeping were so important should be entrusted at midnight to the care of two guards, that he should not have been handcuffed, and that he should have been taken to his own house from which he no doubt knew of exits unknown to those in charge of him! It seems that since the affair of June 6, 1832,[53] in which PÉpin was implicated, his house has been so arranged as to furnish him with means of escape. The Juge d'Instruction who allowed PÉpin to escape by not having him properly guarded is called Legonidec; he is a young Judge of the Paris Cour d'Assises. Some people think he will be seriously compromised by the carelessness (if it is no worse) with which he has treated this very important matter.

They took me to see the ruins of the old castle, which are more extensive and important than I thought when I came. It was an important fortress in its day and was dismantled by the orders of Louis XI. in the time of the wars against Burgundy.

Dijon, September 3, 1835.—I left Arlay this morning with grateful memories of the kindness with which Pauline and I were received. The Princesse d'Arenberg became a special friend of mine; her politeness, her kindness and simplicity, combined with much good sense and good manners, her education and talents, and her power of making good use of all these, assure this young woman a distinguished position among those of her age and rank of whom very few in my opinion are her equals.

I went by the new road which goes by Saint Jean-de-Losne and is much shorter. The road is good and easy, but the country it crosses—rich no doubt and well cultivated—has no special beauty or even interest apart from its many chÂteaux and the Burgundian canal which is finely shaded by poplars.

Pierres, the chÂteau of M. de Thiard, is the most important of those on the road. It seemed to me large and the surroundings of it are splendid, but its situation is not pleasant. It is a pity they are pulling down the castle of Seurre on the bank of the SaÔne. It seemed to me to be well placed. Toiran, La BretonniÈre, and some others show that the province is well inhabited.

I regret having arrived too late to see Dijon. It is a fine town with splendid buildings. The streets are animated. The park, an excellent public promenade about a quarter of a league from the town and connected with it by long avenues, must be a source of great pleasure to the inhabitants.

Tonnerre, September 4, 1835.—The road from Dijon to Montbard is bare and flat and fatiguing to the eye. Montbard is an old feudal castle of the Dukes of Burgundy situated on a considerable eminence. It was presented by Louis XV. to M. de Buffon, who already possessed at the foot of the hill a rather large and melancholy house in one of the streets of the little town. He continued to live in this house which has nothing interesting in it except a fairly good portrait of the celebrated owner. He demolished four of the five surviving towers on the walls of the old chÂteau. The one he left still survives, as well as the enormous outside wall which now encloses nothing but a "quincunx" of fine trees planted by M. de Buffon, from which fine alleys lead to his house below. The trees make a delightful shady promenade. At the top of the grove there is a little house containing a single room in which M. de Buffon used to establish himself for several hours every day in order to work uninterruptedly. He had a church built on part of the foundations of the fortress, and is buried there. M. de Buffon's house is occupied by his daughter-in-law, a widow with no children.

The country becomes more varied as one approaches Ancy-le-Franc, a great and noble chÂteau built in the sixteenth century by Madame de Clermont-Tonnerre and afterwards bought by the celebrated Louvois, to one of whose descendants it still belongs. This chÂteau is perfectly regular in form; it consists of four buildings joined at each corner by a square tower. There is no principal staircase; each tower has its own—a very narrow one. The bedrooms are well proportioned and well furnished, but the public rooms are ill-arranged. They are small, especially the salon, in which the heavy gilding seems to add to the effect of smallness. Some ancient ceilings with panelling to match give some of the rooms a Gothic character, which is interesting. The windows are few and narrow, and the courtyard small and sombre. The castle is entirely surrounded by a vast and well planted park. The water is ugly and muddy and I saw neither glass-houses nor flowers, though the offices are considerable. The high road crosses the fore-court a few yards from the house, which I think is carrying the principle of accessibility a trifle too far.

What pleases me least is the situation of this abode. It lies at the bottom of a valley and lacks light, air, and a view. The English word "gloomy" seems made for Ancy-le-Franc. The chapel is fine, and it is needless to say that there is a theatre. How could the M. Louvois of to-day do without one?

I had often heard Ancy-le-Franc and ValenÇay mentioned as the two most considerable and remarkable chÂteaux in France. I cannot admit that there is any comparison. ValenÇay is much more imposing, and at the same time cheerful to live in. Its situation is picturesque and healthy: it is much richer in architectural ornament, and its finest part, which dates from the fifteenth century, is a hundred years older than Ancy-le-Franc, and in the purest Renaissance style.

It has just occurred to me that I saw no library in M. Louvois' house. I am sorry I did not mention it to the concierge, who seemed, however, to be conscientiously showing us all there was to be seen.

I prefer not only ValenÇay to Ancy-le-Franc, but, apart from tradition, even Chenonceaux, and I should prefer UssÉ also if it were put in order and furnished.

Melun, September 6, 1835.—The banks of the Yonne are pleasant enough, and are a welcome rest after the melancholy road from Dijon. It is a pity, however, that the vegetation is, so to speak, factitious. Up to Sens I saw no other trees than poplars planted in quincunxes or in avenues. This in the end becomes exceedingly monotonous, and gives a stiff and artificial look to the landscape.

The Cathedral at Sens is fine, and its proportions elegant. Two sculptures attract particular attention, the Mausoleum of the Dauphin father of Louis XVI., and the altar of Saint Leu, on which this good Bishop of Sens is represented undergoing his martyrdom, which, as a matter of fact, took place at Sens itself. The group is in white marble, and very effective. I think the general effect of the Dauphin's mausoleum is heavy. The composition lacks simplicity, but some of the parts are fine. The Treasury of the Cathedral is not only very rich in relics whose authenticity is beyond question, but also in antiquities, which interested me because they bore the stamp of being genuine. Thus I saw the Episcopal throne of Saint Leu, his pastoral ring, his mitre, the pastoral ring of Gregory VII., the comb used by Saint Leu at ordinations, vestments used by Thomas Becket, who, as I lately read in Lingard, had taken refuge on the Continent when first persecuted, and had resided chiefly in France. These vestments are locked up with great care in an iron case. There is a fine crucifix by Girardon, which is worth seeing.

In a letter from the Princesse de Lieven at Baden, dated August 29, which reached me at Sens, the following passage occurs: "We have strange news from England. Will Ministers really have the courage to carry out their threats against the Lords? Will the latter give way before these threats? I doubt it; but the collision so long postponed is coming at last. In France all is going well. M. de Broglie's speech is splendid. Lord William Russell is always saying 'Our alliance is at an end.' As France is repudiating revolutionary principles and England is going more and more in that direction, there is no basis of agreement. The alliance was one of principles, and as the principles are no longer identical the alliance is dead."

Paris, September 7, 1835.—It is always a great event for me to get back to Paris where I have had so many bad moments. All my past unrolls itself before me as I pass through these streets and squares, which awake so many memories, almost all of them painful.

As we passed along the boulevards I glanced with a shudder at the house from which Fieschi committed his crime. It is quite small and of a mean appearance. The too celebrated window is boarded up. In a year or two perhaps this house will be demolished, and I shall be sorry. They will no doubt build some memorial on the site, which will disappear in its turn with the first turn of the political weathercock, and will, in any case, be much less impressive than would be the preservation of the scene of the atrocity exactly as it is. If it were preserved it would assist tradition; every one knows the history of the event, and may find a lesson in it. The Rue de la Ferronnerie still exists. They pulled down the Opera house in which the Duc de Berry was assassinated only to demolish thereafter the chapel which was built in its place. And yet the chapel from which Charles IX. shot his subjects is still there, always pointed out, always referred to. Why should the crimes of monarchs be made manifest and those of peoples remain concealed?

I shall give some extracts from the letters from M. de Talleyrand which awaited me at Paris: "In the Ministry here you will find more politeness than friendship. To be intimate with M. Royer-Collard and not to have prevented him speaking against the press law is too bad! That is our real crime. Even Thiers has not been here for two days. I am not sorry, as I should have told him very plainly that I thought the articles in the Journal de Paris which he writes or inspires very improper, and that he should have so much respect for M. Royer-Collard as at least to keep silent. The confidence of the Tuileries is also one of the causes of the Ministerial coolness.... Thiers has lost a great deal at the recent sittings of the Chamber. To appear in the tribune with a copy of the National dating from before 1830 in order to prove that one did not say so and so, is to rate oneself very low! Men who have not been properly educated to begin with grow up with great difficulty; they lose their heads whenever they are contradicted.... You cannot too highly praise M. de Broglie's speech; all the incense bearers in Paris have passed through his salon.... The affair of the escape of PÉpin has much diminished the stability of the Ministry, which has shown itself so incompetent to deal with a serious situation. People say, 'If the Government doesn't serve the King better than that what have we to rely upon?' Thiers, instead of using his ability to consolidate his position, has used it to produce an impression of mere cleverness. He came badly out of these sittings. In the first place, he was beaten on an amendment of Firmin Didot's, then he brought his claims as a journalist into the tribune which produced a bad effect everywhere. And yet he is the best the Ministry have got, because he has humanity behind all his cleverness; he loves his friends, he is a good creature (in the best sense of the term), but he requires to have good people about him, and those he has are the reverse.... Do not forget that espionage in the Chamber, in the streets, and in letters is pushed to the utmost lengths.... The King, the Queen, and Madame AdÉlaÏde look forward to seeing you among the greatest of their consolations. They need consolation, for I assure you they are very unhappy. The Guizots and the Broglies will perhaps talk to you of my coldness; you can say to them that the coldness is not on my side. It did not come from me, but from them."

Here now is an extract from a letter from Madame de Lieven, dated Baden, September 2: "I have reason to believe, from a few lines I have from England, that there is an understanding between Peel and Lord Grey. The quarrel of the two Houses will be adjusted, I understand from Lady Cowper. They think very well of M. le Duc de Nemours in England."

Paris, September 8, 1835.—M. Thiers is aged and ill; his illness is nothing but fatigue and exhaustion, but what a life! He is angry with his colleagues for grudging him the days of rest for which he asks, and roundly accuses them of cowardice for shrinking from assuming for three weeks a responsibility which burdens him all the year. But what a responsibility it is to preserve the King from the daggers of assassins! Every day there is a new conspiracy; to defeat them all is a superhuman task.

Up till now Fieschi's crime has not been connected with anything of importance. There are a few obscure public-house accomplices and that is all; the Ministry cannot find anything bigger. M. Thiers even goes so far as to think it the most ominous feature of the case that such an atrocity should be the fruit not of fanaticism or intense passion, or even of some deep laid political conspiracy, but simply the product of the licence and anarchy which dominate the public mind. Fieschi, being pressed by a doctor to declare the motive which led him to commit the crime, replied, "I did it as a boy lets off a cracker." Hideous frivolity! He asserts that all the clubs and secret societies, Carlist and others, were informed that on July 28 an attempt would be made to kill the King. Fieschi had relations with some ruffians of his own stamp; these talked to their friends, and thus a vague rumour spread and even reached the Government. No details however were given, no proper names, nothing precise. As for Fieschi himself, he is simply an Italian bravo, who is always ready to set his hand to a crime even though the reward is not great.

M. Guizot, who had to break the news to the Queen, told me that she was seized with an attack of nerves, that Madame AdÉlaÏde was in despair, and yet so angry that she lost all self-control and literally did not know what she was doing. As for Madame de Broglie, who was also at the Chancellerie at the Place VendÔme with the Queen, she was much affected, but had her emotion under control. On this occasion M. Guizot told me that he felt inclined to compare Madame de Broglie's soul to a great desert in which there are beautiful oases. There are many gaps in her nature, and yet much force and power.

Paris, September 9, 1835.—The absurdities of SÉbastiani are talked of even in the cabinet of Madame AdÉlaÏde; and they seem in fact to pass all bounds. He is much laughed at in London, which he does not like at all. He says, in his dogmatic and paralytic way, "English society gives me indigestion." As for his wife, her silliness and simplicity have become proverbial. They entertain very little, and no one comes near them; Lord Palmerston alone, in order to mark the contrast with the insolence with which he honoured M. de Talleyrand, is constantly paying little attentions to the General. He is always coming to see him, and is most careful to keep him supplied with all the news.

The English Legion raised by General Alava has just been beaten in Spain. The abominable canaille he recruited turned and fled at once. The compromise between the two Houses in England has taken place; it is a truce until next Session.

I have seen the King, who gave me his account of July 28. It is a very curious thing that on the evening before he had told his Ministers that they would shoot at him from a window, that being the surest method of assassination. M. Thiers and General Athalin feared an attack at close quarters, and wished the King to take precautions against this, but he absolutely refused to do so as being useless. The King's advisers partly adopted his Majesty's view, but said they thought the attempt, if made at all, would be made in a narrow street. The King, on the other hand, maintained that they were wrong, and that the attempt would be made on the Boulevard because of the trees, which would afford better cover for the assassin. The King's predictions all came true. He told me that the most cruel moment in his life—which has certainly not been without incident—was when the order of the review brought him back after half an hour to the scene of the crime, and he was forced to pass through pools of blood and among the dead and wounded, amid the cries and lamentations of the people who had been torn to pieces because of him. When he rejoined his family he burst into tears, and his first words were, "Poor Marshal Mortier is dead." No one could have been more self-forgetful, more simply courageous, and yet more moved by the misfortunes of others. His conduct was really admirable, as is unanimously admitted.

The Emperor of Russia did not write personally, but contented himself with sending condolences by a chargÉ d'affaires. This is all the worse, as he wrote a letter with his own hand to the widow of the Duc de TrÉvise, who had been Ambassador at St. Petersburg. Several small Sovereigns were also silent. The letters from Austria were cordial, those from Prussia excellent, Saxony was tender, England correct, Holland kind but otherwise without interest.

The King, who very justly fears any shock, wishes to keep the present Ministry as long as possible, but he thinks he already sees some new germs of division which he fears will develop during the sick leave for which M. Thiers has applied and which will be accorded. The composition of a new Cabinet would be very difficult, chiefly owing to the question of the Presidency, which touches everybody's vanity. The King would like to abolish the Presidency altogether, and with this in view he would like to entrust it for a short time to some exceptional person with whom no one would compete and who could have no successor. It is thus that he comes to think of M. de Talleyrand. His Majesty is at least as antagonistic as ever to the doctrinaire party in the Cabinet, and fears above all that if there were a partial dissolution it would be this factor which would be strengthened.

I am always surprised when people lie without any particular object. It is quite natural that newspapers should amuse themselves by deceiving the public, but when Ministers of State amuse themselves by telling falsehoods the effect is curious. Thus M. Guizot told me the day before yesterday that it was he who broke the news of the catastrophe of July 28 to the Queen at the HÔtel de la Chancellerie. Well, it appears that the Princesses were told of the danger to which the King had just been exposed while they were still at the Tuileries and on the point of leaving for the Chancellerie, by two aides-de-camp sent by the King for that purpose! Vanity leads people into very contemptible things. Could anything be more childish than to invent a lying story about a fact of this kind?

Paris, September 10, 1835.—M. le Duc d'OrlÉans regrets that the WÜrtemberg project of marriage has not come off. He says he wishes to settle the matter as regards Princess Sophia, and to visit Stuttgart when he next goes to Germany. He says that if he married some one else without having seen her, he would be convinced that he had missed his true fate.

M. le Duc d'OrlÉans is very bitter about the Ministry in general; the royal family is disposed to blame the negligence and obstinacy (if it is no worse) of the police for what has happened. He is sure that for some time back the police have been wanting in ability, but as for the escape of PÉpin, he is convinced it is due to the negligence of M. Pasquier, who sits languidly in an arm-chair and gives incomplete orders, and also to some extent to M. Martin du Nord, who transmits these orders, with even less detail, to inferior agents, who carry them out in the slackest way. M. Legonidec, in exculpating himself, makes very grave charges against his superiors, and some go so far as to say that M. Pasquier is negligent because he fears to find some Carlist at the bottom of the Fieschi affair. This is what Madame AdÉlaÏde wants, and what the Queen fears above all things. The King thinks that the attempt has a Republican origin. The essential thing is to get at the truth if possible, and the determination of Ministers to see nothing in the whole affair but a conspiracy conceived in a cabaret is not one which is likely to lead to new discoveries.

Prince Leopold of Naples is accused of practising such duplicity in the matter of his marriage that any other than Princess Marie might have been disgusted with the affair. She is, however, anxious to be settled; no other match offers, and, as the King says, "You know, of course, that Neapolitan princesses simply must be married." His daughter is half a Neapolitan.

The eldest of our Princesses, the Queen of the Belgians, had so little inclination for the King, her husband, that she refuses ever to return to CompiÈgne, where her marriage was solemnised; and it is chiefly for this reason that the Court is arranging to go to Fontainebleau. However, this disinclination on the part of Queen Louise has been transformed into a conjugal affection so intense that she lives almost shut up with the King in a tÊte-À-tÊte which is hardly interrupted even by her ladies or the Master of the Household who receive all their orders in writing. The King and the Queen occupy adjoining rooms, the doors of which are left open. The King, who is timid and domestic in his habits, likes this sort of life very well, and it is much to his wife's taste, for she is only loved by her husband, while he is adored by her. I have these details from her brother, the Duc d'OrlÉans. Paris, September 11, 1835.—My son Alexander, who is just returned from Italy, says that the country is covered with monks flying from Spain and taking with them the treasures of their convents. The precious stones which come from this source are being sold cheap.

The Queen of the French, though in delicate health, goes to bed late, and never retires without having herself read all the petitions addressed to her. She does this chiefly because she fears she might miss some information which might be given in this form and might concern the King's safety.

On July 28, at the very moment when he saw his three sons round him, he turned to M. Thiers and, stretching out his hand, said, "Do not be alarmed: I am alive and well." These are words worthy of Henri IV.!

Maintenon, September 12, 1835.—This place is quite restored and furnished. The rooms are fine; there is a large establishment. The river is clear, and the aqueducts are on a great scale. For any one who does not miss a view, and who does not fear the damp, this old chÂteau, which has so many associations, is one of the most splendid and attractive abodes possible.

Courtalin, September 13, 1835.[54]—Here they know all about what is passing at the Court of Charles X. It is said that the language there on the subject of the crime of July 28 has been very kind and correct. That unhappy Court spends its time in internal warfare and animosity. There are exactly the same intrigues and rivalries as there used to be at Rome at the Court of the Pretender.

Rochecotte, September 14, 1835.—This morning I went to see the Prince de Laval at his pretty manor of Montigny, which he is arranging and adorning in the most delightful manner, while trying to preserve its Gothic character. It is a place which suits well with the heraldic tastes of its possessor.

At Tours I found the Prefect rather irritated at a Ministerial order requiring an exact report of the newspapers which the officials of the Government take in. This little inquisition does, in fact, somewhat recall the curiosity which used to be displayed under the Restoration.

ValenÇay, September 15, 1835.—To-day I dined at Beauregard with Madame de Sainte-Aldegonde. It is a fine house, an old hunting lodge of FranÇois I., which he used when stag hunting from Chambord, in the Forest of RoussÉ. There is a gallery with a hundred and twenty portraits, which are very bad but interesting because they represent all the celebrated people of the period in Europe. The gallery is paved with tiles contemporary with the house. There is a good deal of old panelling and furniture very well preserved by their present owner.

I arrived late at ValenÇay and found M. de Talleyrand thinner, complaining of palpitation of the heart, and of some rather painful trouble in his left arm. He had just got a letter from the King announcing the appointment of M. de Bacourt as Minister at Carlsruhe. The following extract refers to the want of deference with which M. de Broglie treats him: "My dear Prince, the method which in my 'impotence' I decided to use has proved completely successful, and what you desired[55] has been done. I wished to have at any rate the pleasure of announcing this to you myself while renewing most cordially the assurance of my old friendship for you which you have known so long."

The King of the French is not the only Sovereign who does not like his Ministers. The King of England hates his and speaks openly against them at table, as well as against his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Kent, who meanwhile is taking her daughter about from county to county receiving addresses and answering them just as if she were Regent already.

ValenÇay, September 16, 1835.—Mlle. Sabine de Noailles is sixteen, very beautiful, very clever and well educated, with a voice like a man, an excellent memory like all the Noailles, and rather brusque manners. At dinner at Courtalin she raised her voice, and addressing M. de Talleyrand, who was not next to her, she said: "Uncle, will you drink a glass of wine with me?" "With great pleasure, my dear nephew!" replied M. de Talleyrand.

The Duke of Modena is playing the petty tyrant in his Duchy. One of his commonest practices is to have the whiskers and moustaches of those whose passports are in any way irregular cut off. The fashion of the day makes this a more cruel punishment than imprisonment, which, however, his victims have usually to suffer in addition!

The grandmother of the present Duc d'Arenberg, an intimate friend of Maria Theresa, a great and noble lady in all respects, came to France under the Consulate to secure her removal from the list of ÉmigrÉs and the restoration of such of her property as was still sequestrated. She stayed with the MarÉchale de Beauveau, who was a friend of hers. She had to write to FouchÉ requesting an interview, which being granted she went to the HÔtel de Police. Her carriage was not allowed to enter, and she had to alight and cross the dirty courtyard. The Minister was engaged and could not receive the Duchess, whom he referred to his principal clerk. The latter said she might sit down while he was looking for the box with the papers about her case. He began to turn over an index and exclaimed, "But your name was removed a fortnight ago; it is struck out altogether, and since I am the first to give you the good news I must have a kiss, Citoyenne d'Arenberg." Whereupon he seized the Duchess and kissed her on both cheeks. But before Madame d'Arenberg was at the bottom of the steps he called her back, shouting: "Hi! Citoyenne d'Arenberg! I made a mistake; it is not you but one d'Alembert who is struck out!" So the poor Duchess had to go back to Madame de Beauveau having been kissed by the clerk but not struck out of the list. The First Consul, who heard the story next day, ordered the Duchess's name to be struck out at once and she got back her property.

ValenÇay, September 17, 1835.—The Princesse de Lieven has had a curious conversation at Baden with M. Berryer the Advocate and Deputy. "What do you think, monsieur, of the new laws proposed by the French Government on the occasion of the attempt of July 28?" "I approve of them in principle, and that is why I intend to absent myself from the Chamber, where my position would oblige me to oppose them."—"Do you think the Government will last?"—"No."—"Do you think there will be a Republic?"—"No."—"Do you think Henri V. will come in?"—"No."—"What, then, do you think?"—"Nothing, for in France it is impossible to establish anything." M. Berryer left the next day for Ischl to see Madame la Duchesse de Berry there, and is bound thence for Naples.

ValenÇay, September 18, 1835.—I am anxious about M. de Talleyrand—not that I think that the symptoms he complains of are serious, but he is impressed by them. He often speaks of his end, and is evidently afraid of it, and thrusts the idea away from him with horror. He often sighs, and yesterday I heard him exclaim, "Ah, mon Dieu!" in a tone of the deepest dejection. Politics and news interest him, but there is not much of those to be had here.

ValenÇay, September 19, 1835.—Lord Alvanly came back in a cab from the scene of his duel with O'Connell's son and gave a piece of gold to the cabman. The latter, surprised at this generosity, said, "What, my lord, a sovereign for taking you so near your death?"—"No, my man, but for taking me back!"

I sent for the excellent Dr. Bretonneau from Tours to examine M. de Talleyrand. He says that the trouble is only muscular, the muscles being bruised and weary with the efforts M. de Talleyrand has to make owing to the failure of his legs. He thinks, moreover, that he is in a nervous state and is languid and bored, but that there is nothing dangerous. The worst feature is the growing weakness of his extremities which might at any moment reduce him to complete helplessness. In short all the circumstances point to living with difficulty, but none suggest that the end is near. I hope that Bretonneau's presence and his kind and clever talk will have calmed M. de Talleyrand's mind.

ValenÇay, September 20, 1835.—General SÉbastiani has been nearly blown up in Manchester Square in London. A new Fieschi had deposited an infernal machine there with the result that one poor woman was injured. There are as yet no further particulars. There is nothing but crime and mystery in these days!

M. Royer-Collard spoke to us yesterday of his last speech in the Chamber of Deputies. He said that if he had held his peace he would have thought himself dishonoured, that he would rather have had himself carried to the tribune than be silent in a situation in which the glory of his whole life was at stake, and finally that he would be dead now if he had not spoken and that the only reason he is not better than he is, is that he did not manage to express all that he was thinking.

I was bold enough to touch on the subject of the Cours PrÉvÔtales[56] at the time of the second Restoration, for which he has been so much blamed lately, and M. Royer-Collard replied: "It is true that I, with several Councillors of State, was appointed to examine the Bill before the Minister introduced it in the Chamber. M. Cuvier and I opposed it in principle and secured many modifications in detail. M. de Marbois, who was then Garde des Sceaux, and who did not like the law, wished it to be introduced in the Chamber by people who were opposed to it, and appointed me Government Commissary without consulting me. I did not know what had been done till I saw the Moniteur and I complained bitterly. I did not appear in the Chamber as Commissary during the discussion of the law, and I defy any one to quote a word I ever said in its favour." He added that M. Guizot, then Secretary-General at the Ministry of Justice, should not have contented himself with being so good as to quote to his colleagues in the present Cabinet the Moniteur which contained his name. He should at the same time have explained how it happened. If this accusation had been made in the Chamber instead of merely in the Ministerial press M. Royer-Collard would have ascended the tribune to give the true version of the matter.

He is sorry to have wounded M. Thiers by his speech, which was not aimed at him, and he would have liked to be able to make an exception in his favour.

M. Royer-Collard, who has not always either thought or spoken well of King Louis-Philippe, has changed his mind to a remarkable extent. Last night, À propos of the fine portrait of the King which is here, he said he had gone up very much in his opinion, more than he was willing to admit to himself, so great was the contradiction between his past and present opinions on this point, and between his reason and his prejudices.

ValenÇay, September 21, 1835.—M. de Talleyrand was reassured for a day or two by the conscientious and satisfactory report of Bretonneau, but has now relapsed into anxieties about his health. He admits that he thinks of nothing else and says that the cause lies in his state of mind, which is depressed and weary. Yesterday evening when I went back to his room I found him reading a medical book, studying the subject of heart disease, and fancying he had a polypus. Yet he suffers very little, only at long intervals, and then not without a purely natural cause. It is clear to me (and I know something about it) that he has an attack of nerves. He had no experience of this protean malady. He denied its existence in others and now he is a victim himself and will not admit it.

They say that General Alava has been appointed President of the Council at Madrid. He has been saying for the last year that he only accepted the mission to London because the Duke of Wellington was in office. He remained in spite of the Duke's resignation because, he said, Martinez de la Rosa was Premier at Madrid. The reason why he did not retire along with Martinez de la Rosa was, he explained, because Toreno was also his friend! He led the English Legion he had raised in London to Spain in person, after having sworn to declare for Don Carlos on the day the Queen Regent should summon a single foreigner to defend her cause, and finally he seems to have been placed at the head of the Spanish Cabinet by Mendezabal, whom he once drove out of his house as a rascal and a thief! This, it must be confessed, is to push the logic of inconsistency to its furthest limits!

ValenÇay, September 22, 1835.—This is the first occasion for twenty years that I have spent this anniversary[57] away from M. de Talleyrand. He went away yesterday to the Conseil GÉnÉral at ChÂteauroux. I remained alone here with the generation which is destined to succeed him. This gave rise to one or two reflections, among which was that when M. de Talleyrand departs this life I should come here very seldom—not that I fear that I should not be well treated, but the memories of the past would make everything painful to me, and that the contrast which even yesterday was visible would become more marked. I did not feel that it was my business to manage and carry on the salon. It was not my house, and I longed for wings in order to fly to Rochecotte.

M. Mennechet, up to the present time editor of la Mode, a Carlist paper, and defamatory on principle, says, "Just fancy; for five years I have been leading forlorn hopes on behalf of the Prague people and I have only had two letters from them, one from King Charles X. bitterly complaining of the caricatures of Louis-Philippe which we had sent him and which he ordered us to stop, and the other from Madame la Dauphine who two months ago wrote me a very severe letter, sending me back my paper and saying that she would give up her subscription because we had published an article in which it was said that we had seen or received a letter containing good news about the Duc de Bordeaux." M. Mennechet, much distressed by these two letters, has resigned the editorship. I think the letters are very reasonable and very creditable to the writers. ValenÇay, September 23, 1835.—I am impatiently awaiting M. de Talleyrand's return from ChÂteauroux. Though he has become depressed and irritable, his presence does good here. It fills this great castle, and maintains good conversation and manners. Moreover, when he is here I feel there is a reason for my presence.

ValenÇay, September 24, 1835.—Bretonneau's diagnosis is justified. M. de Talleyrand has returned from ChÂteauroux revived and pleased with the reception of the Prefect and the enthusiasm of the whole town as well as by the success of the road in which he is interested.

Madame AdÉlaÏde writes that the King's expedition to the town of Eu has been not only good for his health but gratifying to him personally and to all his family. The testimonies of affection which he received all along the way were impossible to describe.

PÉpin was at last recaptured on the morning of the 22nd. This also I learn from Madame, but she had only just heard, and gives no details.

M. de Rigny is said to be at Toulon, which proves that he has not been successful in his negotiations for the Neapolitan marriage.

ValenÇay, September 28, 1835.—M. Brenier, who has just come from London, tells me that General SÉbastiani hates music as much as his wife loves it. He will not allow her to go to the Opera or to concerts. One day, however, after many prayers, Madame SÉbastiani obtained permission to go to a concert at Lady Antrobus's. It was on June 18, and the General was to call for his wife later. He arrived simultaneously with the Duke of Wellington, who was in uniform and surrounded by many officers, all coming from the great military dinner given on the occasion of the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. The singers were at the moment singing a hymn in honour of the conqueror. SÉbastiani was furious, and told M. de Bourqueney, his First Secretary, who had gone with him, to tell Madame SÉbastiani that she must leave. She does not understand English, and therefore did not grasp what the words of the cantata meant, and at first refused to leave her place. M. de Bourqueney, stimulated by the furious gestures of the General, almost dragged the poor woman out by force over the seats. When she finally got to her husband he said to her, in his pompous and sententious manner, "I told you, madame, that music would be your ruin!"

It was this same M. Bourqueney, who was lately writing for the Journal des DÉbats before he went to London with SÉbastiani, who had the impudence to insinuate that he prepared for M. de Talleyrand from Paris the speech which the Prince made to the King of England in delivering the letters accrediting him to the Court of St. James's in 1830. The following is the history of this speech. M. de Talleyrand was just finishing dressing to go to the King, and said to me that it had occurred to him that it would not be amiss to say a word or two, as was the old fashion. In the peculiar circumstances of the time he thought it would be a good thing, but he had no time to prepare anything. Then he added: "Come, Madame de Dino, sit down and find me a few phrases, and please write them in your largest hand." I did so. He changed two or three words in my draft, which I recopied while his orders were being pinned on and his hat and cane were being brought. This is the precise history of this little speech, which by its fortunate allusions and a comparison between 1688 and 1830 attracted some attention at the time.[58]

It is the same with the letter of resignation which M. de Talleyrand wrote less than a year ago. The general idea is that M. Royer-Collard was its author, so here again follows an exact account of what passed. My conscience had told me that it was absolutely necessary that M. de Talleyrand should send in his resignation, and I familiarised him by degrees with this idea. I knew that he always found it difficult to express his thoughts in words, and that he preferred to act. I had, therefore, for a long time been considering what words it would be best to use. At last, one day last November, when we were alone here, I spoke again to M. de Talleyrand of the propriety, which was daily growing more obvious, of his sending in his resignation—a step from which he still shrank a little. He then said that the necessary letter would be very hard to write. Thereupon I immediately gathered together all that I had prepared in thought and put it into writing. I came back in half an hour and read what I had written to M. de Talleyrand, who was much struck with it and adopted it entire, all but two words, which he thought affected. I then asked him to submit the proposed letter to M. Royer-Collard, which he was quite willing to do. Next morning I left for ChÂteauvieux. M. Royer-Collard thought well of the letter, only putting at the end "the thoughts which it suggests" instead of "the warning which it gives," as I had written, and replacing one expression at the beginning, which he thought too pompous, by another in better taste. Thus, without any further alteration, this letter afterwards appeared in the Moniteur, and for a good while occupied public attention. All the letters of this period written by M. de Talleyrand to the King, Madame AdÉlaÏde, and the Duke of Wellington, were first thrown on paper by me and then rehandled by him. It was only the first above-mentioned, which contained his resignation, which was corrected by M. Royer-Collard. The others were merely communicated to him, and he approved them all.

ValenÇay, October 1, 1835.—Yesterday I went to ChÂteauvieux; the weather was terrible.

M. Royer-Collard said that, of all the people he had ever met, the two most alike were Charles X. and M. de la Fayette. They were both equally mad, equally obstinate, and equally honest. Speaking of M. Thiers, he said: "He is a good-humoured rascal with plenty of cleverness and some sparks of greatness, but capable of losing an empire by his recklessness and excitability." Referring to the recent repressive laws, he said: "I have no love for dictators, but reason tells me that they are necessary at times. Perhaps the present is one of these times. But where are we to find the Dictator? If they frankly proposed the King I could understand it, but to think of the present Cabinet occupying such a position!"

ValenÇay, October 4, 1835.—Yesterday I heard some singular stories of M. Cousin, whose formerly revolutionary ideas have changed into monarchical sentiments of the most exalted character. Some delightful remarks on the subject are quoted. It seems that this illustrious Peer has composed a monarchical and Catholic Catechism. The work being completed it was laid before M. Guizot, who gave it his approval, as did M. Persil, Minister of Public Worship. The book was printed, sent out to educational establishments, and recommended to all the institutions under the University. After all this there came a poor priest with the book in his hand and proved that all these doctors had only forgotten one little thing in the whole system of Catholic doctrine, which was the doctrine of Purgatory, to which not the slightest allusion was made throughout the catechism, verified and approved as it was by M. Guizot, Minister of Public Instruction and a Calvinist!

ValenÇay, October 10, 1835.—A pedantic and ill-mannered Prefect spitefully refused permission to M. de Talleyrand to plant a few trees, saying that he was "À cheval sur la loi." "Dear me," replied M. de Talleyrand, "you have chosen to ride a sorry jade!"

The celebrated Alfieri was at first attracted by the ideas of the French Revolution, but became so disgusted with them, that he determined to leave France. The reason of this was that one day he was driving four-in-hand in the Bois de Boulogne at a great pace, himself holding the reins, when the horses were requisitioned by force for the public service. That very evening he announced his departure, and in reply to entreaties that he should remain, he observed, "What on earth is one to do in a country where the nobility have no daggers and the priests no poison!"

ValenÇay, October 16, 1835.—I am confronted with new anxieties. I had heard that the Princesse de Talleyrand was in an alarming condition, and that her end appeared to be approaching. The Baronne de Talleyrand, who told me, asked me to prepare M. de Talleyrand for this event. I confess I shrank from this mission. The gloomy ideas which have so frequently recurred to M. de Talleyrand's mind for some time, the depression caused by his great age, the anxiety which he feels at the slightest symptoms, the sharp and painful impression made on him by the deaths of his contemporaries—all this made me hesitate to tell him that his wife's days were numbered. I was not afraid of the shock of the bereavement, for his heart is not interested. But the disappearance of a person much of his own age, with whom he had lived and of whom he had once been fond, or who had been so indispensable to him that he had given her his name—all this made me think that the Princess's danger would affect him deeply.

I racked my brains to find some oblique way of getting at the subject without speaking directly of a seizure. My first remarks were received in silence, after which M. de Talleyrand immediately changed the subject. Next day, however, he returned to it, but only to refer to the embarrassment it would be to be in mourning if she did die, of the funeral, and of the cards that would be sent out. If the Princess did die, he said, he would go out of Paris for a week or a fortnight, and all this he said, not only without any trace of grief, but even in a tone of obvious relief. He immediately proceeded to enter on the financial questions of importance which are involved in his wife's death which would repossess him not only of her annuity, but also of other monies in which she has only a life interest. All the rest of the day M. de Talleyrand showed a kind of serenity and gaiety which I have not seen in him for a long time, and which struck me so much, that when I heard him positively humming a tune, I could not help asking him "if it was the fact that he was soon to be a widower that put him in such spirits." He made a face at me like a mischievous child, and went on talking about all there would be to do if the Princess were to die. He will have the satisfaction of an easier income, which will be a relief to him, as for some years past his revenues have, to his great annoyance, notably diminished owing to several causes. Besides this, it is probably a relief to him (though he will not acknowledge this even to me), to see a bond snapped which was the greatest scandal of his life because it was the only one which was irremediable.

ValenÇay, October 18, 1835.—After several months of silence, during which General Alava has come to grief at the head of the English ruffians he took with him to Spain, I have received a letter from him at Madrid, dated the 6th instant, which begins thus: "You were right, my dear Duchesse, when you once said that to enter Spain with foreign troops was to tempt Providence." The letter ends with another allusion to my prediction, which seems to have come true to a degree which poor absurd Alava can hardly bear. He insists, however, that he was in honour bound to this partisan existence which he dignifies with the epithet chivalrous, although it is merely Quixotic in the bad sense.

He does not need to explain why he refused the Premiership, but he says he took the Ministry of Foreign Affairs because he saw the safety of the Queen Regent was compromised. He does not say how. He then adds that as soon as he was reassured on this point he retired completely from the Cabinet, that his only desire is to resume his duties in London as soon as the session of the CortÈs is over. He seems to feel the uncertainty of this, for he says, "Heaven alone knows what obstacles may come between me and London before then." He ends by saying that if he goes back to England it will be by sea in order to avoid Paris which, according to him, is a very dangerous place for a Spanish diplomatist.

As regards France, he says: "As they waited for the casus foederis before they acted, the casus mortis in which we find ourselves, relieves us of the necessity of thinking of our liberation, which is a thing of which dead men have no need." Paris, October 23, 1835.—We have been back in Paris some days.

M. le Duc d'OrlÉans was speaking to me yesterday of the Neapolitan marriage planned for his sister Princess Marie, which did not come off, and he told me that he had applied to his brother-in-law, the King of the Belgians, who is here just now, to find some younger son of a great German House who would be willing to marry the Princess and come and live at Paris. Princess Marie is clever, but her imagination is vivid and restless; she is fond of the arts, and is little used to restraint or to pomp and ceremony. They think she would be happier if established in Paris, and certainly freer than she would be elsewhere. No opportunity seems likely to occur of a foreign marriage; even the chance of such a thing seems more remote. The Princess is twenty-three, and the Queen is worried and anxious about it.

The pretensions of the King's children are in all things much reduced, for M. Guizot said the other day, when M. de Bacourt was leaving for Carlsruhe, that there might not be much to do, but there was one thing, which was to preserve the last Princess of Baden for M. le Duc d'OrlÉans. This Princess is the daughter of StÉphanie de Beauharnais. I doubt if this marriage would be agreeable to the young Prince, who only yesterday, À propos of the Leuchtenbergs, said some hard things of the Beauharnais family. He said they were all intriguers, and would not make an exception even in favour of the Grand Duchess StÉphanie of Baden who, in my opinion, deserves a place apart. She is not only a kindly woman, but there is in her a touch of sublimity, though she is a trifle too energetic and her pretensions to wit are excessive.

The Princesse de Talleyrand is better, and so little concerned about her condition that all she thinks of is how to secure further advantages for herself at her husband's death.

Paris, October 24, 1835.—M. Pasquier told us yesterday that they had been obliged to amputate one of Fieschi's finger-joints as a result of the wound caused by the bursting of his infernal machine, and that the patient grasped the injured finger with the other hand before the surgeons began their work saying: "Little one, I am sorry, but you are going to lose your head before I lose mine." His coolness, courage and physical strength are only equalled by his excessive vanity.

I find the Tuileries depressing, Madame AdÉlaÏde aged, the King flushed and stouter. They are both cast down by the departure of the Prince Royal for Algeria. The punishment of an African brigand does not seem a sufficient motive for risking so precious a life. They are displeased with Ministers for having rather encouraged than checked the adventurous and highly natural impulse of the young Prince.

The cholera has ceased neither at Toulon nor in Africa; it may yet cause some calamity to the King. The failure of the Neapolitan marriage disappoints, and the extreme coldness of the new Russian Ambassador discourages them.

In the thirty-six hours he spent in Vienna with the ostensible purpose of paying his respects to the last Emperor of Austria, and with the real object of charming M. de Metternich through his wife, and the Archduke Louis through the Archduchess Sophia, the Czar of Russia rushed all over the city in a cab, forced the vault in which the last Emperor is buried, and contrived to change his uniform four times!

A propos of the appointment of Count Pahlen as Russian Ambassador in France the Carlists are saying that nothing can more clearly prove the rapprochement of the Czar Nicholas with King Louis-Philippe than the choice of the son of a murderer as Ambassador at the Court of the son of a regicide.

Paris, October 27, 1835.—M. de Talleyrand said yesterday that on his return from America, after all the horrors of the Revolution, he met SieyÈs and asked him how he had got through that frightful time, and what he did during those miserable years. "I lived," replied SieyÈs! It was in fact the best, and the most difficult, thing to do!

The Government, wishing to find a pretext for the liberation of the Ham prisoners,[59] eagerly seized on some symptoms of mental derangement shown by M. de Chantelauze. M. Thiers intended after some months of an asylum to remove the prisoners to the country houses of friends who would be answerable for them, and with this end in view he had appointed a commission of celebrated physicians to inquire into the condition of M. de Chantelauze and at the same time that of the other ex-Ministers. M. de Chantelauze however, as soon as he heard of the impending arrival of the doctors, hastened to declare that he would receive them politely as eminent persons but not in their medical capacity, that he would answer none of their questions, and that he desired his complete and instantaneous liberation or nothing. I much doubt whether his companions in misfortune are pleased with him for showing so much disdain.

Paris, November 14, 1835.—I have just had very friendly letters from Lord and Lady Grey. They are very busy with their estate of Howick, from which they write, and seem to be quite out of politics.

Lady Grey says a thing which I echo with all my heart. "If my friends will only love me and I can possess a garden in summer and an armchair in winter I am perfectly happy in leading the life of an oyster.—Don't expose me to Madame de Lieven, she would think me unfit to live!"

Paris, November 16, 1835.—M. de Barante came to say good-bye. He leaves to-morrow for St. Petersburg with a full heart and an anxious mind. Since the famous speech[60] of the Czar Nicolas at Warsaw, which Madame de Lieven herself refers to as a catastrophe, and since the commentary of the articles in the Journal des DÉbats on this speech, the position of the French Ambassador is a very difficult one. The line he is to take seems to me a good one and all the more prudent as it was traced for him by the King.

We dined last night at the Tuileries, where there were only the Royal Family, the ladies and gentlemen actually in attendance, and some young people, the friends of the little Princes. M. le Duc d'Aumale had just been head of his class, which put him in high spirits. He was the only member of the company who appeared to me to be so.

The King was so kind as to have a charming portrait of Mary Stuart brought for me to see. It was all the more interesting as its history is pathetic. Mary Stuart's ladies went from England to Belgium immediately after their mistress's execution, and took with them this portrait which they placed in a public building where it still is. The Queen of the Belgians had a perfect copy of it made for the King, her father, and it is this copy which I saw.

In the course of the evening the King had a long talk with M. de Talleyrand and asked him to take a journey to Vienna. This however he declined, alleging in excuse the season of the year, his age, and the presence of another Ambassador already accredited to Vienna.

Paris, November 20, 1835.—The effect of the famous speech of the Emperor Nicolas to the municipality of Warsaw has been no less disagreeable at Vienna than at Berlin. The English papers have attacked it violently. The Morning Chronicle, the organ of the Whig Cabinet, has been much more violent even than the Journal des DÉbats. A propos of the latter a curious thing has happened. The Government, wearied of all the indiscretions and improprieties committed by the DÉbats, which are becoming embarrassing owing to the semi-official colour of the paper, formed the idea of giving more importance to the Moniteur by inserting carefully-written articles, thus taking away the Ministerial importance of the DÉbats. This was the King's idea, and was adopted by the Cabinet. When, however, the question arose who should have the direct control of the Moniteur the Duc de Broglie claimed it as President of the Council, whereupon the King at once dropped the plan, and things are as they were before. Letters from England report that the English Ministry is much embarrassed. Lord John Russell's timid speech at Bristol, without satisfying the Conservatives has irritated the Radicals and the Irish Catholics extremely, and the Cabinet's very existence appears to be seriously threatened though the question is adjourned until the opening of Parliament.

The more I see of Count Pahlen, the new Russian Ambassador, the more excellent I find his disposition. I know on excellent authority that he has written to his Court in clear, simple, straightforward and kindly terms about what he has lately thought and seen. He did not conceal how much his social position was suffering owing to the instructions he had received, and he added that he did not feel bound to remain in such a position, declaring finally that his Government should either modify its first instructions or recall him. This declaration was sent off yesterday. The King and Madame AdÉlaÏde are impatiently awaiting the answer, which of course will decide what relations there will be in future between our Government and that of Russia.

Paris, November 23, 1835.—Here are the leading points of a letter which I have just received from the Duke of Wellington. "We are still on the path on which we entered five years ago. All we can hope for is that the pace will not be too fast. To stop, and, above all, to return, is impossible. Robespierre was at least honest as regards money, his power was founded on disinterestedness; but those who intend to govern us and who are going to be our rulers will not be guided by the same considerations. At least I fear not."

Paris, November 24, 1835.—I spent a curious morning yesterday of which I wish to give a detailed description, but in order to be understood I must say a few words by way of preface.

I have a cousin named Louisa de Chabannes. In her early youth she was very pretty, and sang and painted. She was well bred but poor, and got no opportunity of marrying. She became retired, unsociable, weakly, and almost ugly. I used to see her three or four times a year, and I was always struck by the weariness of her manner, by her pallor and thinness, and by her silence and nervousness. Seven years ago I heard that she had joined the Grandes CarmÉlites. I was not surprised, for though she had never been exactly pious, it was quite clear that she was ill at ease in the world. However, like all her relations, I was quite convinced that the austerities of this severe Order would soon destroy that fragile and ailing organism. I heard, however, at long intervals, from her brother Alfred that she was still alive, and indeed much better than she used to be.

Yesterday morning I got a letter beginning, "My dear Cousin," and ending "Soeur ThÉrÈse de JÉsus." For a moment I did not understand; then I recollected Louisa de Chabannes. In this letter she said that having at last obtained permission to see me from her Superior she begged me to come at once. Yesterday was one of the very few days on which visits are allowed, and she added that in order that I should not be terrified she had as a great favour obtained permission to see me with her face uncovered and without witnesses. I should have been very sorry to disappoint the poor woman, and as I had business with the Archbishop, who lives in the same neighbourhood, I resolved to do both on the same day.

I left at two, and drew up at the end of the Rue d'Enfer before a doorway surmounted by a cross. The doorkeeper told me that Vespers were not over, for the nuns said the Great Office every day, and that I should go into the Chapel. I did so. At the end of the choir there is a grille armed with projecting points, behind which is a great brown veil, and the voices of the Sisters come from beyond this. Besides myself there were only two old ladies in the chapel, the only ornaments of which are a kneeling statue of Cardinal BÉrulle in white marble and several portraits of S. Theresa. I did not know my cousin well enough to recognise her voice, but the Office came to an end almost immediately, and I went back to the doorkeeper's room, where I found the convent doctor, who had just called.

While they were away announcing his arrival and mine he saw that I was shivering, for in this house there never is any fire except in the infirmary and in the kitchen. The doctor then spoke to me of the rÉgime of the establishment, which he declares is not unwholesome, and to prove it said that after numerous observations he had come to the conclusion that the average age reached by women outside was thirty-seven, whereas among the CarmÉlites it was as much as fifty-four. He left me to go to the infirmary and soon afterwards they took me to the parlour, which also was without a fire. A little cane arm-chair, on which was spread a mat also of cane, was drawn up to an iron grille lined with a wooden casing, and behind this double barrier there was a curtain of brown wool.

After a few moments I heard a lock turned and some one came forward to the grille and said in a clear voice, "Deo gratias." I did not know what to reply and was silent, when the same voice repeated "Deo gratias." Thereupon I had to say "I have not been told what answer I should give." A little burst of laughter disconcerted me—"My dear cousin, I only wanted to be sure that it was you." The curtain was drawn and I saw before me a round fresh smiling countenance lit up by two bright blue eyes. Instead of the feeble voice I expected I heard rich, animated, and rapid accents. The thoughts which she expressed were kindly and sweet, and the assurances she gave of her happiness and contentment were corroborated by her appearance, which certainly was strikingly reassuring in a nun so strictly cloistered. She is forty-eight and does not look thirty-six. She thanked me very much for having come, and handed me a little medal with an effigy of the Blessed Virgin, begging me to make M. de Talleyrand wear it without his knowledge. "This medal," she said, "brings back to the Faith even those who have wandered furthest from it." I did not refuse to do as she wished, as to do so would have been horribly unkind. Besides, there is something catching in a faith so sincere and so vivid! I said that I would look for a favourable moment for carrying out her blessed purpose.

I left much touched, and very thoughtful after saying adieu, probably for ever, to this charming and happy woman, who sleeps on a board, never has a fire, fasts the whole year round, and would be distressed if she did not say with S. Theresa, "may I suffer or else die."

I went on the Rue Saint-Jacques to the Convent of the Dames Saint-Michel to see the Archbishop, to whom I wished to speak about a project of marriage between my second son and Mlle. de FougÈres. I was conducted by one of the sisters, clad in white from head to foot, to a little separate building which looks into the immense garden of the Convent. M. de QuÉlen has lived here almost entirely since the destruction of his palace. His apartments are clean, pretty, and very well looked after.

I found the Archbishop well and in good spirits and very much pleased to see me. He at once began to talk to me about my children, of their future and their marriages. I did not hesitate to go into details with him on this subject. He listened kindly and said that he would always be delighted to testify the interest he took in the family of the Cardinal de PÉrigord, and particularly in my children. I must know that he had a special interest in me which was due to the qualities I possessed, and to the fact that he had always regarded me as the instrument which Providence would probably use to accomplish its merciful and redeeming work on M. de Talleyrand. I made him promise to pay a morning call on M. de Talleyrand from time to time, as he used to do before our departure for England. When I left he said "Treat me as you used to do, as a relative, and promise me that you will come and see me again about the New Year." I said I would, and asked if I might then present my daughter, who had been baptized and confirmed by him. "And who, I hope, will not be married by any one else," he replied, on which I took my leave.

Paris, December 6, 1835.—Here is a story which M. MolÉ told me last night. Madame de Caulaincourt (Mlle. d'Aubusson) married in 1812. On leaving the church after the ceremony she went back to the convent where she had been educated, and her husband left for the front. He was killed at the battle of La Moskowa, where his brother-in-law, a young page of the Emperor, disappeared and was never heard of again. Madame de Caulaincourt, after her year of mourning, returned to Society, but did not go out much. She kept her father's house, he having been for long a widower. Her eldest brother, shortly after his marriage with Mlle. de Boissy, became completely insane, and her sister, the Duchesse de Vantadour, was attacked by a slow consumption. The father, all of whose children were stricken, decided to marry again, and did, in fact, marry Madame Greffulhe, mother of Madame de Castellane. Madame de Caulaincourt then retired to a convent, where she wished to take the veil. Her father opposed this and the Archbishop of Paris, whose consent was necessary, refused to give it so long as M. d'Aubusson withheld his approval. Madame de Caulaincourt was forced to give up her idea, but she took part in the exercises of the Sisterhood and wore their habit, never leaving the convent except when her father was ill. Her grief at not being allowed to follow her vocation undermined her health and the mischief settled naturally on her chest. On her deathbed she at last obtained her father's permission and sent for the Archbishop, to whom she communicated her desire to take the veil at the same time as she received extreme unction. There were some difficulties about this, but they were overcome, and forty-eight hours before she breathed her last she received the last sacraments and the veil that she so ardently desired! She died yesterday morning, in the odour of sanctity, a young woman.

Paris, December 9, 1835.—Madame la Princesse de Talleyrand died an hour ago. I have not yet told M. de Talleyrand more than that she was dying. Even where there is no affection the word "dead" has a sinister sound, and I do not like to say it to an aged man in ill-health—the less so as when he awoke to-day he had another slight heart attack, which abated on the application of mustard to his legs. He fell asleep again, and I shall tell him of his wife's death when he again awakes. He is in haste, I think, to be free at all costs from the agitations of these last days.

Paris, December 15, 1835.—M. Guizot came to see M. de Talleyrand yesterday, and told us that among the papers of M. RÉal, formerly Chief of the Imperial Police, there had been discovered the original manuscript of the Memoirs of the Cardinal de Retz, with the erasures made by the monks of Saint Mihiel. The manuscript had been bought by the Government, which had invoked the aid of the cleverest chemist in Paris, who, having vainly tried various methods, had finally discovered one which enabled the superimposed text to be removed and the original to be read. A new edition of the Memoirs, based on this manuscript, is to be published.

Madame d'Esclignac, who is behaving very badly about the property of the Princesse de Talleyrand, had a discussion on the subject yesterday with the Duchesse de Poix. The latter tried to make her see the impropriety of her conduct, how odious the publicity of a lawsuit would be, and how ungrateful to M. de Talleyrand, who gave her a dowry and is still paying a pension to her old nurse, whom she had left to die of hunger. To all this Madame d'Esclignac replied: "For my own part I do not fear any scandal, and as far as my uncle is concerned I desire it. I shall have the Faubourg Saint-Germain on my side, for I had the Archbishop of Paris to administer the last sacraments to Madame de Talleyrand."

Paris, December 21, 1835.—Count Pahlen received from his Government yesterday very satisfactory despatches, which assure him that the extravagances of the Journal des DÉbats are not confounded with the views of the King and his Ministers. These despatches, which came by post, were quite obviously intended to be read by the public. The Ambassador expects a courier every day, who will no doubt bring an expression of the private views of the Czar.

The Princesse de Lieven, whom I met yesterday at Madame Apponyi's, spoke to me about her affairs, and said that for a long time back her husband and she had invested all their savings out of Russia in order that they might be safe from ukases.

The Prince de Laval said yesterday, amusingly enough, that M. de Montrond's wit "fed on human flesh!" M. de Talleyrand thinks this "very true and very neat!" Paris, December 30, 1835.—I saw Madame AdÉlaÏde yesterday. She was much satisfied with the opening sitting of the Chambers, which had taken place that very morning. She was pleased with the reception the King had, both coming and going, and along all the way from the Garde Nationale. There had been great difficulties in settling the terms of the speech from the Throne, which was still under discussion ten minutes before the sitting. The words "the Head of my Family," which are causing a great sensation, which are thought bold, but which please the diplomatic corps and every one who is on the side of stability, originate neither in the Palace nor in the Cabinet. They come from a sentence composed by M. de Talleyrand and me, which the King eagerly adopted, but the Cabinet would only authorise the words "the Head of my Family." The Carlists think them insolent! They are horrified at the idea of a fourth family! The Republicans like them no better, perhaps rather worse; ... every one else approves of them highly.

Yesterday we had at dinner Madame de Lieven, Mr. Edward Ellice, Count Pahlen, Matuczewicz, and M. Thiers, who was in high spirits and very brilliant in conversation. He took me into a corner and told me that le Bergeron, of Port Royal, had a new criminal enterprise in hand. He had disguised himself in woman's clothes along with one of his friends, with the intention of making as if to present a petition to the King, and while doing so to shoot him point blank. The plan miscarried because the King, instead of riding to the Chamber as he had intended, went in a carriage because of the frost. Several arrests were made, but as nothing was actually attempted it is thought that they will have to release the suspects.

The fact that eight horses were attached for the first time to the King's carriage attracted attention. The real reason for this is unknown to the public, and is as follows. For greater safety the King (without his knowledge) was given the carriage formerly used by the Emperor Napoleon, which is lined with iron throughout to protect it from shots; it is extremely heavy, and requires eight horses. Count Pahlen yesterday received despatches modifying his first instructions, which were very severe in their terms and made his position here impossible. It appears that this has been clearly understood at St. Petersburg, and that he is to be given more scope. This will greatly please Madame de Lieven!