e removal of the Emperor's body
would occasion to her. And although it was not to be expected that the
great French nation should forego its natural desire of recovering the
remains of a hero so dear to it for the sake of the individual interest
of the landlady in question, it must have been satisfactory to her to
find, that the peculiarity of her position was so delicately appreciated
by the august Prince who commanded the expedition, and carried away with
him animae dimidium suae--the half of the genteel independence which
she derived from the situation of her hotel. In a word, politeness and
friendship could not be carried farther. The Prince's realm and the
landlady's were bound together by the closest ties of amity. M. Thiers
was Minister of France, the great patron of the English alliance. At
London M. Guizot was the worthy representative of the French good-will
towards the British people; and the remark frequently made by our
orators at public dinners, that "France and England, while united, might
defy the world," was considered as likely to hold good for many years
to come,--the union that is. As for defying the world, that was neither
here nor there; nor did English politicians ever dream of doing any
such thing, except perhaps at the tenth glass of port at "Freemason's
Tavern."

Little, however, did Mrs. Corbett, the St. Helena landlady, little did
his Royal Highness Prince Ferdinand Philip Marie de Joinville know what
was going on in Europe all this time (when I say in Europe, I mean in
Turkey, Syria, and Egypt); how clouds, in fact, were gathering upon what
you call the political horizon; and how tempests were rising that were
to blow to pieces our Anglo-Gallic temple of friendship. Oh, but it
is sad to think that a single wicked old Turk should be the means of
setting our two Christian nations by the ears!

Yes, my love, this disreputable old man had been for some time past the
object of the disinterested attention of the great sovereigns of Europe.
The Emperor Nicolas (a moral character, though following the
Greek superstition, and adored for his mildness and benevolence of
disposition), the Emperor Ferdinand, the King of Prussia, and our
own gracious Queen, had taken such just offence at his conduct and
disobedience towards a young and interesting sovereign, whose authority
he had disregarded, whose fleet he had kidnapped, whose fair provinces
he had pounced upon, that they determined to come to the aid