Her Majesty appearing at the Opera is applauded; she returns all radiant with joy.

Anon the applauses wax fainter, or threaten to cease; she is heavy of heart, the light of her face has fled.

Is Sovereignty some poor Montgolfier; which, blown into by the popular wind, grows great and mounts; or sinks flaccid, if the wind be withdrawn?
France was long a 'Despotism tempered by Epigrams;' and now, it would seem, the Epigrams have get the upper hand.
Happy were a young 'Louis the Desired' to make France happy; if it did not prove too troublesome, and he only knew the way.

But there is endless discrepancy round him; so many claims and clamours; a mere confusion of tongues.

Not reconcilable by man; not manageable, suppressible, save by some strongest and wisest men;--which only a lightly-jesting lightly-gyrating M.de Maurepas can so much as subsist amidst.