to-day. Why is it so easy for them and not for me to "ring out the old,
ring in the new"? I am out of place.

_Jan. 28, Monday._--Sunday has now got to be a day of special
excitement. The gentlemen save all the sensational papers to regale us
with at the late Sunday breakfast. Rob opened the battle yesterday
morning by saying to me in his most aggressive manner, "G., I believe
these are your sentiments"; and then he read aloud an article from the
"Journal des Debats" expressing in rather contemptuous terms the fact
that France will follow the policy of non-intervention. When I answered,
"Well, what do you expect? This is not their quarrel," he raved at me,
ending by a declaration that he would willingly pay my passage to
foreign parts if I would like to go. "Rob," said his father, "keep cool;
don't let that threat excite you. Cotton is king. Just wait till they
feel the pinch a little; their tone will change." I went to Trinity
Church. Some Union people who are not Episcopalians go there now because
the pastor has not so much chance to rail at the Lord when things are
not going to suit. But yesterday was a marked Sunday. The usual prayer
for the President and Congress was changed to the "governor and people
of this commonwealth and their representatives in convention assembled."

The city was very lively and noisy this evening with rockets and lights
in honor of secession. Mrs. F., in common with the neighbors,
illuminated. We walked out to see the houses of others gleaming amid the
dark shrubbery like a fairy scene. The perfect stillness added to the
effect, while the moon rose slowly with calm splendor. We hastened home
to dress for a soirée but on the stairs Edith said, "G., first come and
help me dress Phoebe and Chloe [the negro servants]. There is a ball
to-night in aristocratic colored society. This is Chloe's first
introduction to New Orleans circles, and Henry Judson, Phoebe's husband,