been uniformly actuated by the noblest sentiments, and who, instead of being the adventurer represented, is known to have put in jeopardy a large estate, through disinterested devotion to the country, and the prevailing predominant trait of whose character was an inflexible integrity of purpose.  Now, Lafayette is obnoxious to a great deal of similar vulgar feeling, without being permitted, by circumstances, to render the purity of his motives as manifest, as was the better fortune of his great model, Washington.  The unhandsome and abrupt manner in which he was dismissed from the command of the National Guards, though probably a peace-offering to the allies, was also intended to rob him of the credit of a voluntary resignation.[9]—­But, all this time, we are losing sight of what is passing in the streets of Paris.

[Footnote 9:  General Lafayette took the republican professions of the King too literally, at first, and he did not always observe the menagement, perhaps, that one seated on a throne, even though it be a popular one, is apt to expect.  In 1830 he told the writer the King had, that morning, said, that some about him called the General a “maire du palais.”  On being asked if the King appeared to entertain the same notion, his answer was, “Well, he professes not to do so; but then I think he has tant soit peu of the same feeling.”  This was ticklish ground to stand on with a sovereign, and, perhaps, a case without a parallel in France, since the days of Hugues Capet.  A few weeks later, General Lafayette related another conversation held with Louis-Philippe, on the subject of his own unceremonious dismissal from office.  “You shall be named honorary Commander-in-chief of the National Guards, for life,” said the King.  “Sire, how would you like to be an honorary king?” It is quite apparent that such a friendship could not last for ever.]

Troops of the line began to appear in large bodies as the evening closed, and the reports now came so direct as to leave no doubt that there was a sharp contest going on in the more narrow streets of the Quartier Montmartre.  All this time the feelings of the crowd on the bridges and quays appeared to be singularly calm.  There was little or no interest manifested in favour of either side, and, indeed, it would not be easy to say what the side opposed to the government was.  The Carlists looked distrustful, the republicans bold, and the juste milieu alarmed.

I went back to the hotel to make my report, again, about nine, and then proceeded by the quay and the Pont Louis XVI. to the Carrousel.  By the way, I believe I have forgotten to say, in any of my letters, that in crossing the Place Louis XVI, with a French friend, a month or two since, he informed me he had lately conversed with Count—­, who had witnessed the execution of Louis XVI, and that he was told there was a general error prevalent as regarded the spot where the guillotine was erected on that occasion.