obliged to trot to gratify its curiosity.
This was about the time the King of England electrified London, after a
reign of exclusion, by suddenly appearing in its streets, walking about
like another man. Whether there was any concert in this coincidence or
not I do not know.

On another occasion, A---- and myself drove out at night to view a
bivouac in the Carrousel. We got ourselves entangled in a dense crowd in
the Rue St. Honore, and were obliged to come to a stand. While
stationary, the crowd set up a tremendous cry of _Vive le roi!_ and a
body of dismounted cavalry of the National Guard passed the carriage
windows, flourishing their sabres, and yelling like madmen. Looking out,
I saw the King in their midst, patrolling the streets of his good city
of Paris, on foot! Now he has declared us all under martial law, and is
about to shoot those he dislikes.

The _fleur-de-lis_, as you know, is the distinctive symbol of the family
of France. So much stress is laid on trifles of this nature here, that
Napoleon, with his grinding military despotism, never presumed to adopt
one for himself. During the whole of his reign, the coins of the country
were decorated on one side with no more than an inscription and a simple
wreath, though the gradual progress of his power, and the slow degress
by which he brought forward the public, on these points, may yet be
traced on these very coins. The first that were struck bore his head, as
First Consul, with "_Republique Francaise_" on the reverse. After a time
it was "_Empereur_," with "_Republique Francaise_." At length he was
emboldened to put "_Empire Francais_" on the reverse, feeling a true
royal antipathy to the word republic.

During the existing events that first succeeded the last revolution, no
one thought of the _fleur-de-lis_ with which the Bourbons had sprinkled
everything in and about the capital, not to say France. This omission
attracted the attention of some demagogue, and there was a little
_emeute_, before the arch of the Carrousel, with threats of destroying
these ornaments. Soon after, workmen were employed to deface everything
like a _fleur-de-lis_ in Paris. The hotel of the Treasury had many
hundreds of them in large stone rosettes, every one of which disappeared
before the chisel! The King actually laid down his family arms, causing
the brush to be put to all his carriages. Speaking to Lafayette on this
subject, he remarked, pithily--"Well, I told his Majesty I w