in full vigor, and his
frame and step (allowing for his lameness) are as firm and strong as when
he was our nation's guest. I sat with him ten or fifteen minutes and then
took my leave, for I felt it a sin to consume any more of the time of a
man engaged as he is in great plans of benevolence, and whose every
moment is, therefore, invaluable.

"The news of the fall of Warsaw is now agitating Paris to a degree not
known since the trial of the ex-ministers. About three o'clock our
servant told us that there was fighting at the Palais Royal, and we
determined to go as far as we prudently could to see the tumult. We
proceeded down the Rue Saint-Honore. There was evident agitation in the
multitudes that filled the sidewalks--an apprehension of something to be
dreaded. There were groups at the corners; the windows were filled,
persons looking out as if in expectation of a procession or of some fete.
The shops began to be shut, and every now and then the drum was heard
beating to arms. The troops were assembling and bodies of infantry and
cavalry were moving through the various streets. During this time no
noise was heard from the people--a mysterious silence was observed, but
they were moved by the slightest breath. If one walked quicker than the
rest, or suddenly stopped, thither the enquiring look and step were
directed, and a group instantly assembled. At the Palais Royal a larger
crowd had collected and a greater body of troops were marching and
countermarching in the Place du Palais Royal. The Palais Royal itself had
the interior cleared and all the courts. Everything in this place of
perpetual gayety was now desolate; even the fountains had ceased to play,
and the seared autumnal leaves of the trees, some already fallen, seemed
congruous with the sentiment of the hour. Most of the shops were also
shut and the stalls deserted. Still there was no outcry and no
disturbance.

"Passing through the Rue Vivienne the same collections of crowds and of
troops were seen. Some were reading a police notice just posted on the
walls, designed to prevent the riotous assembling of the people, and
advising them to retire when the riot act should be read. The notice was
read with murmurs and groans, and I had scarcely ascertained its contents
before it was torn from the walls with acclamations. As night approached
we struck into the Boulevard de la Madeleine. At the corner of this
boulevard and the Rue des Capucines is the hotel of Gene