windows looking out on the court in front of the house, through
one of which, slightly opened, comes in gushes the soft damp
breath, with a tone of spring-life in it, which the close of an
English February sometimes brings--so different from a November
mildness. The green lawn which occupies nearly half the court is
studded over with crocuses of all colors--growing out of the grass,
for there are no flower-beds; delightful for the large still-faced
white-robed babies whom their nurses carry up and down on the
gravel court where it skirts the green. And from the square and
the neighboring streets, through the open door whereat the civil
porter moves to and fro, come the sounds of vehicles and men, in
all gradations, some from near and some from far, but mellowed by
the time they reach this backstanding lordly mansion.

But above all cries comes one whereat every stone in this and other
lordly mansions may totter and quake for fear:

"Se...c...ond Edition of the Morning _Herald_--L...a...test news from
Paris:--arrival of the King of the French."

I have gone out and bought the said portentous _Herald_, and send it
herewith, that you may read and know. As the human race forever
stumbles up its great steps, so it is now. You remember the Reform
Banquets [in Paris] last summer?--well!--the diners omitted the
king's health, and abused Guizot's majority as corrupt and servile:
the majority and the king grew excited; the Government forbade the
Banquets to continue. The king met the Chamber with the words
"_passions aveugles_" to characterize the dispositions of the
Banqueters: and Guizot grandly declared against the spirit of
Revolution all over the world. His practice suited his words, or