had been done during the night, no accounts of fighting were brought from any part--and the general feeling, after all, seemed to be only one of astonishment, just as I recollect was the case once at Gibraltar, when there was a shock of earthquake which did no harm. By degrees all sense of apprehension disappeared as the morning wore on, and nothing worse was seen than now and then a patrol of cavalry moving up or down the Boulevards; they were fine, soldier-like looking men, and looked as if they could act if called upon, but they only rode steadily along, interfering with no one, though I noticed that the people in the streets moved quicker when they saw them approach, and tried to get out of their way. Seeing things so quiet, and anxious to hear all that could be heard, Master and the ladies went out on the Boulevards and down to the Place de la Concorde, and took me with them, following at a little distance behind. There were more people in that direction than near our hotel, but we soon found that the cause of this was the President himself, who came riding along from his palace with a large staff of officers about him, and wherever he came the people cried, "Vive la République !" and "Vive le Président!" and certainly no symptoms of dissatisfaction at what had taken place were shown, as far as I could observe. Indeed, after witnessing this spectacle, our ladies expressed no more fear, but chatted and laughed as gaily as the French themselves, many of whom, in my hearing, already began to talk of the coup d'état as a good joke, for they are people who soon recover their spirits. I have nothing more particular to say about the events of that day, for though Paris looked different from what I had thought it the first time I was there, still there seemed nothing to be afraid of, and, as there is always plenty for strangers to see, neither Master nor the ladies wanted for amusement, and in the evening, having met with some English gentlemen they knew, they made up a party and went to one of the theatres near the hotel, the Italian Opera I believe it And so ended Tuesday, the 2nd of December.

was.

On Wednesday morning matters were rather altered, and the first sign we had in our quarter that that day was not likely to end so peaceably as the first, was seeing several regiments of infantry march along the Boulevards, where they halted at intervals in open columns at half-distance, wheeling back in half-companies from the centre so as to line the street on each side, where they piled arms but remained in the ranks. These troops were not at all what I should call smart-looking men, and most of them were a good deal below our standard, but though they had a slovenly way of marching, with their trousers tucked up above the ankle, and sloped their arms over which shoulder they liked, they went through their manœuvres well and quickly. I thought it looked unsoldier-like to see so many of them smoking, and drinking out of the sutler-women's cantines, but Master said it was the custom of the French army, and that their officers let them do things which ours would never think of. Besides the troops, we also saw a great many sergens de ville, a kind of police with long swords, who were very busy tearing down printed papers from the walls which had been pasted up in the night, it was said, by the Red Republicans. Wherever these police saw a knot of people assembled, they went and dispersed them; but there was so much curiosity to read the papers, or the people were less willing to obey orders than they had been, that it soon became a matter of difficulty to get them to move on ;

however, there was no resistance offered that I could see, though there was a good deal of loud talking, and many cries which I did not understand.

It was mostly from the windows of our hotel that we watched these proceedings, but I went out now and then to pick up what news I could, for Mistress, who had got very nervous when she saw the regiments form on the Boulevard, would not suffer Master to leave her side,—and though he would have liked to judge for himself, he could not refuse her anything she asked him. He went so far, indeed, at her request, as to agree to leave Paris, much as he wished, he said, "to see the thing out," and I was sent to see about a carriage to take us to the railway-station. But I soon found that orders had been issued to prevent any carriages from circulating, lest they should be taken to help to make barricades,-for the hotel people said some had already been erected in other parts of the city,-and Master would not hear of our going on foot, "running away," he called it, "as if we were frightened and he so lately an English officer," so we stayed, and Mistress bore up as well as she was able. As the afternoon advanced, it was plain enough that some work was being cut out for the troops, for those opposite our hotel stood to their arms and formed again in column, and moved up the Boulevard Montmartre quite out of sight, leaving only a few pickets of cavalry behind, though there were large bodies in reserve, we were told, in the Place de la Concorde and thereabouts, ready to support them in case of need. About three o'clock the gentlemen who had been to the play the night before came to the hotel and told Master that at the other end of the Boulevards a good deal of fighting had actually taken place, that several barricades had been raised and taken, and a good many people killed, a member of the French parliament, whose name I don't recollect,-one of the "Mountain," as they called his party,-being one. I did not hear all the conversation that took place between Master and his friends, but it was quite enough for me to be sure that there would be more to do before it was all ended. Mistress and Miss Alice kept making a good many inquiries, but, of course, we made as light of it as we could to them, and had enough to do to deny all the worst part of the reports that the waiters kept bringing in, as if they wanted to make themselves easy by frightening women and timid folks. Meantime, a considerable difference took place on the Boulevard, for, as it began to get dusk, instead of the shops and cafés being lit up as they were on Tuesday evening, the owners put up their shutters, which, coupled with the rain that fell, gave the streets a very gloomy appearance; and when it got quite dark the hoarse voices of the men who kept shouting for the Republic, and the heavy tramp of the cavalry as they passed backwards and forwards, did not at all help to make the prospect of that night a pleasant one. I can't say what Master felt, but he kept a very cheerful countenance, and saying that the insurrection, if it spread, would be put down by the military, went to bed and slept in peace. I couldn't tell why, for I am not, I believe, a timorous person, but sleeping was out of the question with me, and so I never took off my clothes, but went from time to time, as if I had been on regular duty, to see at the bedroom doors that all was safe.

It was a long night, and the morning of Thursday broke dull and

cloudy. As soon as there was light enough I was on the look-out, and soon saw that the number of troops had greatly increased on the Boulevards,—with the addition of artillery, -a sure sign that affairs were drawing near a crisis. But for all that there was no stir amongst them, and for several hours they occupied their position quite immovable, until I almost fancied, notwithstanding the guns, that it would not be any fight after all, and that the troops were out more to make a show than anything else. Master appeared to be of the same opinion, or, at all events, he said so,-his great object being to keep Mistress and her sister, and poor Harriet too, who was the most nervous of the three, from being frightened. He succeeded pretty well, and as no harm had happened yet to anybody, so far as we had seen, they began to think there was nothing to be afraid of.

But if the military were quiet, that was not the case with the people
in the streets, who now made their appearance in greater crowds than
ever; some of them, no doubt, for bad purposes, but the greater part, I
think, from motives of curiosity or restlessness. Every now and then
a cry was heard of an unfavourable kind; but nothing hostile was
attempted. Between twelve and one o'clock, however, sounds began to
be heard which didn't need that one should have been a soldier to know
the meaning of. It was the firing of artillery, at some distance perhaps ;
but still there it was, not to be mistaken. It startled most that heard it,
and its effect began to tell upon the troops,
for now there came mounted
orderlies galloping down the Boulevards, and the commanding officers
formed their regiments in readiness to march in the direction of the noise
of the cannon.
After a while, however, the sounds ceased, and for
another hour the troops never moved, though the cavalry sat with pistols
raised, and the infantry stood with sloped arms: the artillery drivers, too,
mounted their horses, and a word only was wanted to set them in motion.
About two o'clock, as near as I can remember, that word came.
It was

a stirring sight, I must say, to see the march of so many fine troops,
and the natural feeling of a soldier made me wish to join them.
It was
a sin to think so, no doubt, and God has punished me for entertaining it;
for what call had I to desire to mix myself up with the quarrels of
the French? My duty there was a servant's duty to his master, and

no more.

It was quite time, apparently, for the troops to move, as they had not been gone more than half an hour before the sound of musketry was heard in quick volleys, as well as the roar of heavier metal, and hundreds of scared people who ran past the hotel cried out that the military were attacking a large barricade at the corner of the Rue St. Denis, about half a mile off. This was quite as near to the scene as many wished to be; but when they said that, they little dreamt we should soon be in the midst of the fight ourselves. The talk of one barricade set the people in the streets to work about making more, and very soon a pile of stones and carts began to be heaped up at the corner of a street nearly opposite the hotel, and several men armed with muskets showed their heads behind it. There were no troops in sight at the time, nor was there any firing from this barricade, but Master thought it was too serious an affair now to let the ladies be exposed to any danger, so with my help he put the shutters to, and made Mistress and Miss Alice, and Harriet, sit down

on a sofa in one corner of the room, out of the reach of any stray shot, in case of firing. He had scarcely done so before there came a loud roll of the drums in the direction of the Rue de la Paix, which was answered by a cheer from the men behind the barricade opposite. I got to a place where I could see through the crevice between the shutters, and had just planted myself there when a pistol or musket went off from the other side of the Boulevard. Who fired it I could not see, but the smoke was still hanging in the air, when down came a large body of troops, who at once opened a heavy fire from the front of the column, sweeping the Boulevards, and scattering the people in every direction.

A scene of confusion and terror then took place such as I never witnessed before, and hope I may never see again. The barricade was charged and taken; but that wasn't it: what I mean was the scene in front of our hotel, where the people fell before the musketry like flocks of slaughtered sheep. But it wasn't only amongst the entangled crowds who were striving to escape down the side streets that the military directed their fire. While the head of the column was clearing all before it, the sections in the rear wheeled outwards, and opened a dropping fire at every window on the Boulevard where they saw a head; and besides this, rattling volleys, which cut the shutters in pieces, laid open many a room where the inmates no doubt thought themselves safe; and, above the noise of the fight, I could hear the painful screams of women and the agonised cries of the wounded. I can't tell whether there were any insurgents in the houses on our side of the Boulevard, but I saw no firing from any of the opposite windows, nor do I think a single shot came from the inside. I had little time, however, to consider this matter, for while I was watching the troops, the shutter behind which I stood was broken at the hinge, and fell down, leaving the window exposed. I ought to have left the place that instant, but I did not: something seemed to fix me there as if I was under a charm. My Master, who had been all the time consoling Mistress and Miss Alice, having hold of a hand of each as they sat sobbing on the sofa, now called to me to come away; but finding that I did not stir, he jumped up to pull me away by main force. Poor gentleman!-poor dear Master! it was the very last thing that ever he did. I saw him within a yard of me, with a fine glow of colour on his handsome face, and my name was on his lips, when a musket-ball struck him right in the middle of his throat and passed out at the back of his neck. He leapt up at least a foot from the ground, spread out his arms, and fell back on the floor, stone dead, without word or sign. The shriek that followed from my poor Mistress, rings in my ears at this moment, and will haunt me to my dying day. Before I had time to reach the place where Master fell, she was there, with his head in her lap, and all her dress dabbled in his blood. How she bent over him-how she called him by his namehow she begged of him to answer her and say that he was not hurt, that he was not dead, I haven't the heart to think of.

I had meant, sir, to have told you all that has happened since; but when I call to mind my dear dead Master, and how I was the miserable though innocent cause of his death, I find I can't do it.

Pray, therefore, to excuse a poor fellow who has no heart to write any more.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

It is made a matter of reproach to the Protectionist party-as it was to their fighting countrymen in the Peninsula-that they never know when they are vanquished, but continue obstinately to hold out when, according to all the rules of war, they ought at once to beat the chamade; as if the supporters of a great principle, men who have not lightly been roused to arm in their own defence, are to abandon their colours and throw down their weapons because of defection, of betrayal, or even of defeat.

Had this rule held good in any of the great moral or political struggles which have agitated mankind, had a docile acquiescence in tyranny and aggression been substituted for that manly resistance which is intuitive in all honest minds, it is not very easy to imagine what the world would have become, but it is tolerably certain that it would not have been worth living in.

66

we

"But the question is settled," exclaim the hostile league, after what was a great but-as present facts declare-a not decisive victory; have worsted you in and out of Parliament, the voice of the country has declared in our favour, and to prolong the contest now is only to render yourselves ridiculous!"

To this the Protectionists reply-and who shall say that they are not justified in replying-"It is true you managed to win the fight on a particular occasion, when every selfish motive was brought to bear that could be made to combine, when treachery aided your cause, and advantage was taken of every extraneous circumstance that could be enlisted on your side, when even the dispensations of Providence were wrested to your purpose, and you held up your opponents to obloquy as abettors of famine and wrong; so far your assertion bears the semblance of truth. But, in the midst of your rejoicing, take this also with you: that the defeat of 1846 was never acknowledged by us to be final, nor the elections of 1847 -influenced by the bugbears of scarcity and an impending monetary crisis admitted by us to be the true expression of the opinion of the people of England. We still had and have a future, and on that future we confidently rely. The field is yet to be fought anew, and whether on the hustings of 1852, or at a remoter date, be assured that the hour of conflict is again to come!"

This language, from the proofs afforded by his brief but brilliant career, would have been held-we cannot doubt-by the lamented nobleman whose biography has just been given to the world by his earnest admirer and attached friend, the member for the county of Buckingham.*

When the Whig leader in the House of Commons had made his memorable bidding for the government of this country, when the "Duke” had sacrificed his convictions, when the resolve of the Conservative Premier himself was known, and arrayed on the side of abolition was a force too numerically strong to leave the slightest hope of immediate

* Lord George Bentinck: a Political Biography. By Benjamin Disraeli, M.P. for the County of Buckingham. London: Colburn and Co.