A sentiment which finds its paraphrase in the following vulgate of our land:—­

  “O Lord, save me,
  My wife, child, and brother Sammy,
  Us four, and no more.”

The latter clause, indeed, is not quite frankly avowed as yet by politicians.

It is very amusing to be in the Chamber of Deputies when some dull person is speaking.  The French have a truly Greek vivacity; they cannot endure to be bored.  Though their conduct is not very dignified, I should like a corps of the same kind of sharp-shooters in our legislative assemblies when honorable gentlemen are addressing their constituents and not the assembly, repeating in lengthy, windy, clumsy paragraphs what has been the truism of the newspaper press for months previous, wickedly wasting the time that was given us to learn something for ourselves, and help our fellow-creatures.  In the French Chamber, if a man who has nothing to say ascends the tribune, the audience-room is filled with the noise as of myriad beehives; the President rises on his feet, and passes the whole time of the speech in taking the most violent exercise, stretching himself to look imposing, ringing his bell every two minutes, shouting to the representatives of the nation to be decorous and attentive.  In vain:  the more he rings, the more they won’t be still.  I saw an orator in this situation, fighting against the desires of the audience, as only a Frenchman could,—­certainly a man of any other nation would have died of embarrassment rather,—­screaming out his sentences, stretching out both arms with an air of injured dignity, panting, growing red in the face; but the hubbub of voices never stopped an instant.  At last he pretended to be exhausted, stopped, and took out his snuff-box.  Instantly there was a calm.  He seized the occasion, and shouted out a sentence; but it was the only one he was able to make heard.  They were not to be trapped so a second time.  When any one is speaking that commands interest, as Berryer did, the effect of this vivacity is very pleasing, the murmur of feeling that rushes over the assembly is so quick and electric,—­light, too, as the ripple on the lake.  I heard Guizot speak one day for a short time.  His manner is very deficient in dignity,—­has not even the dignity of station; you see the man of cultivated intellect, but without inward strength; nor is even his panoply of proof.

I saw in the Library of the Deputies some books intended to be sent to our country through M. Vattemare.  The French have shown great readiness and generosity with regard to his project, and I earnestly hope that our country, if it accept these tokens of good-will, will show both energy and judgment in making a return.  I do not speak from myself alone, but from others whose opinion is entitled to the highest respect, when I say it is not by sending a great quantity of documents of merely local interest, that would be esteemed lumber in our garrets at home, that you pay