“There is, however, something to be said as an explanation of the zeal with which the bourgeoisie give their time and money to the public.  The army received so painful a humiliation in the battles of July that it is by no means inclined to serve the new system faithfully.  The rabble behaved nobly during the conflict, and have since shown rare humanity and moderation.  Yet those who remember the former Revolution feel an extreme dread of the ascendency of mere multitude and there have been signs, trifling in themselves, but such as may naturally alarm people of property.  Workmen have struck.  Machinery has been attacked.  Inflammatory handbills have appeared upon the walls.  At present all is quiet; but the thing may happen, particularly if Polignac and Peyronnet should not be put to death.  The Peers wish to save them.  The lower orders, who have had five or six thousand of their friends and kinsmen butchered by the frantic wickedness of these men, will hardly submit.  ‘Eh! eh!’ said a fierce old soldier of Napoleon to me the other day.  ’L’on dit qu’ils seront deportes:  mais ne m’en parle pas.  Non! non!  Coupez-leur le cou.  Sacre!  Ca ne passera pas comme ca.’”

“This long political digression will explain to you why Monsieur De La Fayette is so busy.  He has more to do than all the Ministers together.  However, my letters were presented, and he said to my friend that he had a soiree every Tuesday, and should be most happy to see me there.  I drove to his house yesterday night.  Of the interest which the common Parisians take in politics you may judge by this.  I told my driver to wait for me, and asked his number.  ’Ah! monsieur, c’est un beau numero.  C’est un brave numero.  C’est 221.’  You may remember that the number of deputies who voted the intrepid address to Charles the Tenth, which irritated him into his absurd coup d’etat, was 221.  I walked into the hotel through a crowd of uniforms, and found the reception-rooms as full as they could hold.  I was not able to make my way to La Fayette; but I was glad to see him.  He looks like the brave, honest, simple, good-natured man that he is.”

Besides what is quoted above, there is very little of general interest in these journal letters; and their publication would serve no purpose except that of informing the present leader of the Monarchists what his father had for breakfast and dinner during a week of 1830, and of enabling him to trace changes in the disposition of the furniture of the De Broglie hotel.  “I believe,” writes Macaulay, “that I have given the inventory of every article in the Duke’s salon.  You will think that I have some intention of turning upholsterer.”