Meanwhile, it's rather dangerous to let the charm of Paris work--the honey will be clogging our feet very soon, and make it difficult to go away.

What an attractive place this is, to be sure! How the sun shines, how the blue sky spreads, how the life lives, and how kind the people are on all sides! If we were going anywhere but to Italy, and if I were a little less plainly mortal with this disagreeable cough of mine, I would gladly stay and see in the Empire with M.
Proudhon in the tail of it, and sit as a watcher over whatever things shall be this year and next spring at Paris.

As it is, we have been very fortunate, as usual, in being present in a balcony on the boulevard, the best place possible for seeing the grandest spectacle in the world, the reception of Louis Napoleon last Saturday.

The day was brilliant, and the sweep of sunshine over the streaming multitude, and all the military and civil pomp, made it difficult to distinguish between the light and life.

The sunshine seemed literally to push back the houses to make room for the crowd, and the wide boulevards looked wider than ever.