hat ensued--social
order speedily restored--the welfare of all classes of society
promoted--advances in commerce and manufactures to an extent hitherto
unknown. Is not this true? and, if so, are you, noble daughter of
France, ungrateful?

"Then came words which touched me deeply--me, who, knowing nothing of
politics, still feel the link that unites Art to Freedom: 'But from
the first your Majesty has looked forward to the time when this
concentration of power would no longer correspond to the aspirations of
a tranquil and reassured country, and, foreseeing the progress of
modern society, you proclaimed that 'Liberty must be the crowning of the
edifice.'' Passing then over the previous gradual advances in popular
government, the President came to the 'present self-abnegation,
unprecedented in history,' and to the vindication of that plebiscite
which I have heard so assailed--viz., Fidelity to the great principle
upon which the throne was founded, required that so important a
modification of a power bestowed by the people should not be made
without the participation of the people themselves. Then, enumerating
the millions who had welcomed the new form of government--the President
paused a second or two, as if with suppressed emotion--and every one
present held his breath, till, in a deeper voice, through which there
ran a quiver that thrilled through the hall, he concluded with--'France
is with you; France places the cause of liberty under the protection of
your dynasty and the great bodies of the State.' Is France with him? I
know not; but if the malcontents of France had been in the hall at
that moment, I believe they would have felt the power of that wonderful
sympathy which compels all the hearts in great audiences to beat in
accord, and would have answered, 'It is true.'

"All eyes now fixed on the Emperor, and I noticed few eyes which were
not moist with tears. You know that calm unrevealing face of his--a face
which sometimes disappoints expectation. But there is that in it which
I have seen in no other, but which I can imagine to have been common
to the Romans of old, the dignity that arises from self-control--an
expression which seems removed from the elation of joy, the depression
of sorrow--not unbecoming to one who has known great vicissitudes of
Fortune, and is prepared alike for her frowns or her smiles.

"I had looked at that face while M. Schneider was reading the
address--it moved not a muscle, it migh