ould have
done this before there was a mob, and I would not have done it
afterwards."

The Bourbons usually drove with eight horses, but this king rarely
appears with even six; though that number is not offensive, the other
being the regal style. Some time since, before the approach of the late
crisis, I saw the coachman of the palace, quite early, or before the
public was stirring, exercising with eight. It is to be presumed that
the aspect of things, the pears, and the Duchess of Berri, compelled the
leaders to be taken off.

A day or two after this event, I dined in company with a deputy, who is
also a distinguished advocate, who made me laugh with an account of a
recent freak of another sovereign, that has caused some mirth here. This
advocate was employed in the affair, professionally, and his account may
be depended on.

You know that shortly after the revolution of 1830, the people of
Brunswick rose and deposed their Duke, bestowing the throne, or
arm-chair, for I know not the official term, on his brother. This Duke
of Brunswick is the grandson of him who figured in the wars of the
_old_ revolution, and the son of him who was killed at Quatre Bras. His
grandmother was a sister of George III, and his aunt was the wife of
George IV; the latter being his cousin, his uncle, and his guardian.

The deposed prince retired to Paris, if it can be called retirement to
come from Brunswick here. After some time, the police was informed that
he was busy in enrolling men to make a counter-revolution in his own
states. He was warned of the consequences, and commanded to desist. The
admonition was disregarded, and after exhausting its patience, the
government proceeded so far as to order him to quit Paris. It was not
obeyed.

I must now tell you, that a few years previously the Duke of Brunswick
had visited Paris, and apprehending assassination, for some cause that
was not explained, he had obtained from the police one of its agents to
look out for the care of his person. The man had been several weeks in
this employment, and knowing the person of the contumacious prince, when
it was determined to resort to force, he was sent with the gendarmes,
expressly that he might be identified.

A party, accordingly, presented themselves, one fine morning, at the
hotel which had the honour to contain his Serene Highness, demanding
access to his person, in the name of the police. No one was hardy enough
to deny such an application,