ed--used to say that Englishmen
could only talk about the weather, and that if by some dispensation of
Providence there ever should be no such thing as weather, the whole
English nation would become dumb. What the weather is to Englishmen the
Eastern Question is to diplomatists. For their sakes, let us hope that
it never will be satisfactorily settled. Diplomatists, like many other
apparently useless beings, must live.

_January 15th._

Yesterday we were made comparatively happy by a report that the Prussian
funds had fallen 3 per cent. at Berlin. To-day we are told that Bourbaki
has gained a great victory, raised the siege of Belfort, and is about
to enter Germany. German newspapers up to the 7th have been seized at
the advanced posts, but whatever in them tells against us we put down to
a general conspiracy on the part of Europe to deceive us. It is somewhat
curious to watch the transmutations of the names of English statesmen
after they have passed through a German and a French translation. Thus
the latest news from London is that Mr. Hackington is made Irish
Secretary, and that Mr. Floresko is Minister of Commerce.

The diplomatists and consuls still at Paris have sent a collective note
to Count Bismarck, complaining that the notice of the bombardment was
not given, and asking him to afford them the means to place the persons
and the property of their respective countrymen out of danger. The
minnows sign with the whales. Mr. Washburne's name is inserted between
that of the representative of Monaco and that of the Charge d'Affaires
of Honduras.

The bombardment still continues. The cannon now make one continuous
noise. Each particular discharge cannot be distinguished. The shells
fall on the left bank to a distance of about a mile from the ramparts. A
return of the _Official Journal_ gives 138 wounded and 51 killed up to
the 13th. Among the killed are 18 children and 12 women; among the
wounded, 21 children and 45 women. Waggons and hand-carts packed with
household goods are streaming in from the left to the right bank. In the
bombarded quarters many shops are closed. Some householders have made a
sort of casemate reaching to the first story of their houses; others
sleep in their cellars. The streets are, however, full of people, even
in the most exposed districts; and all the heights from which a view is
to be had of the Prussian batteries are crowded with sightseers. Every
now and then one comes across some h