We have a letter for George Sand (directed a Madame George Sand) from Mazzini, and we hear that she is to be in Paris within twelve days.  Then we must make a rush and present it, for her stay here is not likely to be long, and I would not miss seeing her for a great deal, though I have not read one of her late dramas, and only by faith understand that her wonderful genius has conquered new kingdoms.  Her last romance, ’Le Chateau des Deserts,’ is treated disdainfully in the ‘Athenaeum.’  I have not read that even, but Mr. Chorley is apt to be cold towards French writers and I don’t expect his judgment as final therefore.  Have you seen M. de la Mare’s correspondence with Mirabeau?  And do you ever catch sight of the ‘Revue des Deux Mondes’?  In the August number is an excellent and most pleasant article on my husband, elaborately written and so highly appreciatory as well nigh to satisfy me.[5] ’Set you down this’ that there has sprung up in France lately an ardent admiration of the present English schools of poetry, or rather of the poetry produced by the present English schools, which they consider an advance upon the poetry of the ages.  Think of this, you English readers who are still wearing broad hems and bombazeens for the Byron and Scott glorious days!

Let me think what I can tell you of the President.  I have never seen his face, though he has driven past me in the boulevards, and past these windows constantly, but it is said that he is very like his portraits—­and, yes, rumour and the gazettes speak of his riding well.  Wilson and Wiedeman had an excellent view of him the other day as he turned into a courtyard to pay some visit, and she tells me that his carriage was half full of petitions and nosegays thrown through the windows.  What a fourth act of a play we are in just now!  It is difficult to guess at the catastrophe.  Certainly he must be very sure of his hold on the people to propose repealing the May edict,[6] and yet there are persons who persist in declaring that nobody cares for him and that even a revision of the constitution will not bring about his re-election. I am of an opposite mind; though there is not much overt enthusiasm of the population in behalf of his person.  Still, this may arise from a quiet resolve to keep him where he is, and an assurance that he can’t be ousted in spite of the people and army.  It is significant, I think, that Emile de Girardin should stretch out a hand (a little dirty, be it observed in passing), and that Lamartine, after fasting nineteen days and nights (a miraculous fast, without fear of the ’prefect’), should murmur a ‘credo’ in favour of his honesty.  As to honesty, ’I do believe he’s honest;’ that is to say, he has acted out no dishonesty as yet, and we have no right to interpret doubtful texts into dishonorable allegations.  But for ambition—­for ambition!  Answer from the depth of your conscience, ‘de profundis.’  Is he or is he not an ambitious man?  Does he or does he not mean in his soul to be Napoleon the Second?  Yes, yes—­I think, you think, we all think.