_To Mrs. Jameson_

[Paris,] 138 Avenue des Champs-Elysées:
December 10, [1851].

I receive your letter, dearest friend, and hasten to write a few brief
words to save the post.

We have suffered neither fear nor danger--and I would not have missed
the grand spectacle of the second of December[7] for anything in the
world--scarcely, I say, for the sight of the Alps.

On the only day in which there was much fighting (Thursday), Wiedeman
was taken out to walk as usual, under the precaution of keeping in the
immediate neighbourhood of this house. This will prove to you how little
we have feared for ourselves.

But the natural emotion of the situation one could not escape from, and
on Thursday night I sate up in my dressing gown till nearly one,
listening to the distant firing from the boulevards. Thursday was the
only day in which there was fighting of any serious kind. There has been
_no resistance_ on the part of the real people--nothing but sympathy for
the President, I _believe_, if you except the natural mortification and
disappointment of baffled parties. To judge from our own tradespeople:
'il a bien fait! c'est le vrai neveu de son oncle!' such phrases rung on
every tone expressed the prevailing sentiment.

For my own part I have not only more hope in the situation but more
faith in the French people than is ordinary among the English, who