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 fœderis 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.