return, that's true. Then yesterday I was out, besides, and last
Saturday, _the 6th_, we drove down the boulevards to see the field of
action on the terrible Thursday (the only day on which there was any
fighting of consequence), counting the holes in the walls bored by the
cannon, and looking at the windows smashed in. Even then, though the
asphalte was black with crowds, the quiet was absolute, and most of the
shops reopened. On Sunday the theatres were as full as usual, and our
Champs-Elysées had quite its complement of promenaders. Wiedeman's
prophecy had not been carried out, any more than the prophecies of the
wiser may--the soldiers had not shot Punch.

And now I do beg you not to be down-hearted. See, if French blood runs
in your veins, that you don't take a pedantic view of this question like
an Englishwoman. Constitutional forms and essential principles of
liberty are so associated in England, that they are apt to be
confounded, and are, in fact, constantly confounded. For my part, I am
too good a democrat to be afraid of being thrown back upon the primitive
popular element, from impossible paper constitutions and unrepresenting
representative assemblies. The situation was in a deadlock, and all the
conflicting parties were full of dangerous hope of taking advantage of
it; and I don't see, for my part, what better could be done for the
French nation than to sweep the board clear and bid them begin again.
With no sort of prejudice in favour of Louis Napoleon (except, I confess
to you, some artistical admiration for the consummate ability and
courage shown in his _coup d'état_), with no particular faith in the
purity of his patriotism, I yet hold him justified _so far_, that is, I
hold that a pure patriot would be perfectly justifiable in taking the
same steps which up to this moment he has taken. He has broken,
certainly, the husk of an oath, but fidelity to the intention of it
seems to me reconcilable with the breach; and if he had not felt that he