represented to myself, was a perfectly polite and reasonable application from a "free-born American citizen." It is really amusing, but not the less true, that an American abroad scarcely ever gets into a passion with the impertinences or impositions of foreigners, whether governments or individuals, than he instantly falls back on his "reserved rights" of American citizen ship, and takes comfort in the somewhat vain and pharisaical reflection, that "he is not as these men are;" ridden over and trampled on, and obliged to submit unmurmuring to injuries and insults; but a glorious descendant of the men of '76, independent, and if need be, pugnacious. I was gradually working up to a rebellious pitch, and a second week's silence on the part of the government only tended to deepen my vexation, and render me a very fit subject for the treasonable designs of a conspirator against the stability and well-being of the famous government of July. It was very stupid, though, it occurred to me one day as I returned home ruminating, that I did not insert in my letter to the Minister the gentle hint that my stay in Paris was brief, and that, if his excellency, Mons. le Ministre, entertained the smallest idea of gratifying my request, that he would vastly increase my sense of the favor by doing it at once.

"Eh bien, Pierre, no ans:ver yet," I said to the porter on entering my hotel.

"Non, Monsieur, ces gueux des ministres (Pierre was no Phillipiste) would have too little to do if they attended to their business at once."

But I will not give it up, I muttered to myself striding off. I will write him again, and have an answer one way or another. As I crossed the court-yard I met my landlord, who wore the important air of a man who had something to communicate.

"You will be surprised to learn," he said, "that an officer of police has been here this hour past talking with my wife."

"Not at all," I answered, "for every body knows that Madame is a very attractive person."

"Vous étes bien aimable, Monsieur, but it was not to see my wife that he came, but to look after you."

I started, sure enough, with astonishment. "Look after me," I exclaimed in some trepidation, trying meanwhile to recall what peccadilloes liable to fine and imprisonment I had committed during my visit to Paris. Somewhat reassured by my retrospection, I demanded boldly what business a police officer had with me.

"Why it appears you have been writing for permission to go see the Prince Louis."

"Well, and are they going to arrest me for that?"

"Why, that depends" returned mine host significantly. "But the immediate object of his visit was to gather for the satisfaction of the Minister what information he could concerning you. His inquiries were numerous touching your position, your pursuits and connections; but, especially whether you had any political motives in desiring to visit Ham."

"Well, I hope you gave me a good character?"

"No better than you deserve," said my old friend, with a polite bow. The French never lose an occasion to compliment; and, after all, it is pleasant, especially in matters where one is doubtful.

"We told him," he continued, "that we had known you for ten years and upwards. That you were a man of fortune; fond of travelling; of studious habits; though, like all other young men -"

"But no conspirator, at all events," I interposed.

"As to that we said we were sure, c'est à dire, that we did'nt believe -for you know one must be very particular what they say to these gentlemen of the police-that you had any political designs whatever in seeking to visit the Prince. We did not think it necessary to disguise that you had been for years intimate with many of the Imperial family, and my wife told him all about the flattering mission you performed for king Joseph."*

"There, I think you have done it; for when the government hear this, they may grow distrustful and refuse my request, on suspicions entirely groundless."

"Never fear, for to my great amusement the officer grew deeply interested in these details; and what with talking about the Emperor, these relics, and his sad fate, his blood grew warm, and it was clear, that he would put no difficulties in your way, or any body's, to oblige the malheureux captive of Ham."

"Well, what was the end of it, and did he hold out any early prospect of my getting a favorable return to my application ?"

"Yes, he thought it was in his power to give such information as would attract the notice of the Minister; and he intimated, besides, that the government was rather inclined to favor in the Prince the cultivation of an

* The matter here alluded to was a trust of some importance confided to me by the Count de Survilliers, (Joseph Bonaparte,) in 1836, when about quitting Paris to join my post at the American Legation in London. Many interesting and valuable objects belonging to the late Emperor Napoleon had been for several years secreted in Paris, but his brother, to whom they were bequeathed, had resolved on taking possession of them. He had requested his friend the Duke of S-d to take them in charge, but learning that I was coming direct to London, the Count wrote requesting me to bring them over. I accepted the honor, though alarmed by the responsibility. The value of these relics was immense, composing amongst others, the grand collar of the Legion of Honor, worn by Napoleon on his coronation day, of gold, and studded with innumerable diamonds of the finest water. There were besides various jewelled snuff boxes, presents from the sovereigns of Europe; his sword, formerly worn by Frederick the Great; his own orders and decorations, etc. But what interested me far more than these gaudy geims were several cases of clothes and books, which had come from St Helena, the contemplation of which brought the Emperor more vividly before me than even all the anecdotes I had heard from members of his family. As the trunks were opened one after the other to certify the various articles they contained, and my eyes fell successively on his linen. coats, uniforms, hat, and a pair of red slippers much worn, I felt as if I were looking down into his tomb, and gazing on his body, so intimately associated were these objects with his august person. The sight of the dark grev overcoat so often drawn in pictures of Napoleon overlooking the sea from the rock of St. Helena, filled me with emotion, and I gazed on it till I am not sure a tear did not glisten in my eye. I was obliged to sign numerous lists, verifying the receipt of the articles enumerated, and in my life I never experienced anxiety like that I suffered while they were in my possession. After leaving Paris, I was detained, unfortunately, two days at Boulogne by a violent storm which in the winter season is not uncommon in the English channel. The steamer refused to venture out, and I was compelled to find what amusement I could in this dull town. The chief source of my annoyance was the precious baggage I had with me, which began to attract attention in the hotel Most of the cases were marked with the imperial cipher N., and curiosity took wing. My mysterious reserve only increased it, and I began to feel no small alarm. There's no trusting French enthusiasm about Napoleon, and how did I know that once sa isfied that this property rad belonged to him, that no content with stealing all the brass nails from the boxes, they might, blinded by their frenzy, think robbery no crime, and lay their irreverent fingers on whatever they could get hold of. The very apprehension kept me close prisoner to my apartment, and I often got up in the night to count the cases over, to find that no advantage had been taken of my slumbers At last, I had the good fortune to get safely to London, and deliver up my commission intact to King Joseph. I observed he was greatly affected at the view of these souvenirs which were ladened with so many recollections fraught with pleasure and pain Whilst the lists were examining, and the articles laid out on tables, he would approach and regard them intently till he could no longer master his emotions, and then walk away. A kinder and truer heart never beat than that of the late Count de Survilliers. and his devotion to the Emperor, history constantly attests it, was ardent, constant, and disinterested, up to the very last, when he came to Rochefort to offer Napoleon the certain means of escape which he had secured for himself, but which the Emperor rejected. No long after the sinali service related, I received from the Count a most flattering letter of a knowledgment, together with a silver goblet which had belonged to the Emperor as a token of his satisfaction.

American acquaintance, as they were exceedingly desirous that he should make that country his home in case he ever got out of Ham again."

"Really, a very sensible desire, and it would be a very satisfactory mode, indeed, of disposing finally of a somewhat troublesome obstacle to the future fortunes of the house of Orleans. N'est pas mon ami."

So saying, I mounted to my salon, and congratulated myself that, at last, this sterile silence of the Minister was broken, and that my request had not entirely fallen to the ground. I was naturally led to indulge some pungent reflections on this detestable system of espionage, which, not satisfied with the results of its open machinery of passports, must needs thrust its secret fangs into the private affairs and history of any luckless wayfarer that happens to cross its path. This taking an inventory of one's character and habits was rather, I found, more novel than agreeable, and awakened sensations that, in spite of philosophy, bordered a little on the indignant. It is certainly no easy matter for an American to break himself into all the humiliating restraints and exactions which belong to the degrading vassalage under which Europe still suffers. I doubt, indeed, whether during any epoch of the feudal period, France was more completely tyrannised over than she is in this year 45 of the 19th century. Her government, placing no reliance on the sympathies or good-will of the nation, lives as it were in an entrenched camp. Besides an army of 400,000 men, the country is strewed over with gens d'armes, and the cities are crowded by well disciplined corps of Gardes Municipales. But this apparently is the least effective part of its means of security, for it spends millions on an immense but invisible force of "secret police," which makes it an especial business, like the inquisition of the middle age, to introduce itself, unknown, into the household concerns and opinions of people, whose names and sentiments are registered, and which may at any moment bring down on their head the spiteful vengeance of the government. It is with difficulty an American can believe that, after so many revolutions and heroic struggles, the French enjoy no more personal liberty than a hundred years ago. They cannot travel from one town to another without a passport, and to be found without it leads direct to a prison; and even when quietly reposing at home they are under the constant surveillance of the secret police. It is no bad proof of the popularity of a government, to compare the funds employed on this odious army of spies. In Napoleon's time the sum was very small, but under his successors the amount has gone on increasing. till in the budget of the day it is set down as twenty-two millions, though that is probably only a portion. This scandalous institution was organised under the despotism of Louis XIV., whose purpose was chiefly political, but his licentious successor put it to another and still more disgusting use. Who could believe, that after the horrors and lessons which the revolution of 1789 had administered to monarchy, and after the radical reforms of the Emperor, that Louis XVIII., on his return to France in 1815, followed by the same corrupt class of nobles who had derived no wisdom from their long exile, dared deliberately to renew, in all things, the same system of government which had once been engulphed in an ocean of blood. Amongst the rest this disgraceful relic of former abuse, the secret police, was restored, and with more than its ancient vigor. To show that I do not exaggerate, I will give a brief extract from a book just published by Alexis Dumesnil, entitled the "Social Trials of France." It is speaking of the close of the reign of Louis XVIII., when prevailed a loathsome mixture of debauchery and false devotion, and the picture traced, repulsive as it may be, is all the more valuable as revealing the just and deep causes of popular hatred for the iniquities of the Bourbon Court:

"The moment," says my author, "that the police of the kingdom was put in the hands of Director Franchet, fanaticism and hypocrisy received a new impulse. Every day the affected zeal of churchmen made sensible progress, and every day also became more impenetrable the veil of false religion under which was concealed the most abominable license. On every side nothing was heard of but young girls seduced, and married women whose virtue was corrupted under sacrilegious pretexts; whilst with similar plausible deceits, friends were secretly denounced and persecuted. Who can say how many were led away by these mystic orgies, and to what extent of baseness women were degraded by a servile spirit of faction. Thus Madame Franchet was required to share with her husband the direction of the secret police, and at certain hours she was obliged to come to the King, and amuse him with the ignoble recital of the many scandalous adventures of the capital, in which he greatly delighted.* For it should be said, that from the time of Louis XIV. the Bourbons liked nothing so much as putting their own hands on these secret springs, and Louis XVIII., while deriving infinite relish from these disgraceful revelations, nevertheless attached great importance to whatever reached his ears by these subterranean channels. Thus it is seen, that under the Restoration, the police became the very soul of the government, which it rendered every day more suspicious and meddling. And the Jesuits, adding their own inquisition to that of the throne, a new system of espionage, (of spying.) was established, between which arose a novel emulation of baseness and perfidy which surpassed all that had hitherto been seen of the kind. The police put its foot everywhere, and corrupted the most sacred obligations of society. There was no profession, assembly, or company, that did not pay it shameful and cowardly tribute. The Chamber of Peers, the Chamber of Deputies, the French Academy, all classes of the Institute were infested with miserable spies; they swarmed in the city, in the court, in the bosom of the church, and in the heart of the army. Old generals of the empire, and the most renowned of the opposite parties, were personally in communication with the Director Franchet, and they sold their ancient brothers in arms, their proper friends, just as they had before sold their Emperor, and afterwards betrayed the secrets of state. What faith can be reposed in the counsels or oaths of such heroes?"

This was the state of things but some five years before the revolution of 1830; and if credulous people suppose that any reform or abandonment of these vile practices followed that grand national flutter of three days, let me assure them they are most egregiously mistaken. I have seen and known enough to be convinced that nothing short of another earthquake, or probably a series of them, will make the rulers of France shake off their old tastes and habits, and set to work sincerely to acquire new. I do not think it worth while to apologize for this and every digression I shall continue to make, for one of my chief objects in this sketch is, to give my reader a passing glimpse of France as it is, and not merely to intrude my egotism upon them.

To go on with my story. It was the next day, I think, after the visit of the ministerial scout already noticed, that I received a summons to repair to the Prefecture of the police. What's coming now? I wondered; is it a personal interrogatory that I am to submit to? I began to entertain serious notions of abandoning my trip to Ham, rather than undergo all the annoyances likely to accompany it. But then, it occurred to me the occasion was excellent to add to my information of how things are managed in France now-a-days, and my curiosity was as lively on this point as the "sentimental voyager's" of time past. Having fortified myself with a goodly assortment of very circular replies to the directest questions that could be addressed me, I drove to the Prefecture. On the announcement of my name, my business seemed perfectly known, and I was conducted to the cabinet of

one of the numberless under-secretaries, where I was received with great courtesy. The party in question advanced with a paper in his hand, desiring me to be seated, and, after an interchange of polite remarks, came to the point.

"The government," he said, "had received my request-could see no possible good reason for not entertaining it on the contrary, the government was most happy to have it in its power in any reasonable way to aid in mitigating the painful imprisonment of the Prince Louis Nopoleon-that, to be sure, they were under the disagreeable necessity of refusing numerous applications to visit him, from just apprehension of unpleasant consequences-but that, in the present instance, no such objection whatever existed." "I am exceedingly happy to hear it," I replied, with a cordial salutation; " and when may I anticipate the favor of being allowed to set off?"

"I was just going to add," replied the formal official, "that the Minister would have taken great pleasure in acceding to your wish, but he has been informed that Prince Louis has declined receiving your visit."

"Indeed," I drawled out with an emphasis that conveyed my undisguised astonishment.

Yes, I assure you," continued the functionary in his blandest manner; "the government would have deemed it quite unnecessary to interfere in this matter if his Highness had manifested the smallest concern about it." "Then, I may rely upon that?" I asked, rather abruptly.

"Oh, undoubtedly. I hope you will accept my positive assurance on that point."

"I do so most cheerfully, and with a view to prove my entire confidence in your word, have the goodness to read this;" handing him a letter I drew from my pocket. The Secretary of the Prefecture of Police read it rapidly over, then turned it round, examined the postmark, and exclaimed in some confusion:

"Why, this is a letter from the Prince, dated yesterday, expressing his desire to see you at your earliest convenience!"

Exactly so; Monsieur, I received it fortunately as I left my hotel to come here; and as there is now, by your declaration, no difficulty whatever in the way of my departure, I need not assure you that I shall be greatly indebted to his Excellency, the Minister of the Interior, for permission to go as soon as possible."

"There must, certainly, be a mistake somewhere," returned the Secretary, very much puzzled.

"Vous avez raison, Monsieur, nothing can be clearer," and taking care to recover my letter, I withdrew.

I have related the scene at the Prefecture just as it occurred, "nothing extenuating, nor setting down aught in malice," and to this day I have never obtained a clue to the mystification. I had reason to know before I got his letter that the Prince would be happy to see me, and, therefore, the "mistake" of the government is all the more inexplicable. It would be excessively indelicate to imagine, for a moment, that such high and mighty persons could condescend to a trick, or even give way to a lively itch for a practical joke. Therefore, I will not imagine it; I prefer, rather, to live on with my curiosity ungratified, and content myself with the charitable conclusion, that mistakes will occur in the best regulated governments. No later than next morning a lancer galloped with considerable fracas into the court-yard, and touching his hat a la militaire to the porter, handed him a formidable-sized missive from "Son Excellence, le Ministre de l'interieur for Monsieur"- he took a look at my name, but galloped off again without venturing to pronounce it. A Frenchman can