facto_ Government of the country, and should
urge Prussia to make peace on terms which a French nation can honourably
accept.

General Vinoy, out reconnoitering with 15,000 men, came to-day upon a
Prussian force of 40,000 near Vincennes. After an artillery combat, he
withdrew within the lines of the forts. There have been unimportant
skirmishes with the enemy at several points. The American, the Belgian,
the Swiss, and the Danish Ministers are still here. Mr. Wodehouse has
remained to look after our interests. All the secretaries were anxious
to stay. I should be glad to know why Mr. Falconer Atlee, the British
Consul at Paris, is not like other consuls, at his post. He withdrew to
Dieppe about three weeks ago. His place is here. Neither a consul, nor a
soldier, should leave his post as soon as it becomes dangerous.

Victor Hugo has published an address to the nation. You may judge of its
essentially practical spirit by the following specimen:--"Rouen, draw
thy sword! Lille, take up thy musket! Bordeaux, take up thy gun!
Marseilles, sing thy song and be terrible!" I suspect Marseilles may
sing her song a long time before the effect of her vocal efforts will in
any way prevent the Prussians from carrying out their plans. "A child,"
say the evening papers, "deposited her doll this afternoon in the arms
of the statue of Strasburg. All who saw the youthful patriot perform
this touching act were deeply affected."

_September 19th._

I don't know whether my letter of yesterday went off or not. As my
messenger to the post-office could get no authentic intelligence about
what was passing, I went there myself. Everybody was in military
uniform, everybody was shrugging his shoulders, and everybody was in the
condition of a London policeman were he to see himself marched off to
the station by a street-sweeper. That the Prussian should have taken the
Emperor prisoner, and have vanquished the French armies, had, of course,
astonished these worthy bureaucrats, but that they should have ventured
to interfere with postmen had perfectly dumbfounded them. "Put your
letter in that box," said a venerable employe on a high stool. "Will it
ever be taken out?" I asked. "Qui sait?" he replied. "Shall you send off
a train to-morrow morning?" I asked. There was a chorus of "Qui sait?"
and the heads disappeared still further with the respective shoulders to
which they belonged. "What do you think of a man on horseback?" I
suggested. An indi