He was recognised, and cheered, and returned the salutation very graciously.

And there stood the column erected to commemorate the victories of one now sleeping in a foreign grave; one whose very name was once the talisman that excited all Parisian hearts into the wildest enthusiasm! Louis-Philippe passed near the base of the column, which seemed to return a sullen echo to the voices that cheered him; did he, or those around him, remember their vicinity to this striking memorial of the inconstancy of the nation?
The scene awakened more reflections in my mind than I dare say it did in that of those whose voices rent the air; but though it might be only fancy, I thought the King of the French looked very grave.
Monsieur Mignet spent last evening here; his conversation is full of interest, being the overflowing of a rich mind, free from prejudices, and his ideas, though methodically arranged and subjected to the ordeal of a sober judgment, bear the warm tint of a brilliant imagination, that might have rendered him a poet, had he not chosen to be a historian.

The Revolution has produced no visible change in this clever and agreeable man, who, filling the office of Keeper of the Archives, devotes his time to studies and researches in harmony with the pursuits to which he has many years been accustomed, and hears the success of the popular cause, to which he has long been attached, with a moderation and equanimity highly indicative of a philosophical mind, allied to an amiable disposition.

There is something so striking in the appearance of Monsieur Mignet, that all strangers, who meet him here, remark the fine character of his head and the expression of his countenance.
The celebrated General Peppe dined here yesterday, and is very unlike the revolutionary hero I had pictured him to be.

Mild, well-bred, and amiable in his manner, he seems much more suited to command a regiment in support of a legitimate monarchy, than to subvert one.