If you had cursed the sentiment of the day ever so, you would have had eyes for its picturesqueness, I think, so I wish you had been there to see.
Louis Napoleon showed his usual tact and courage by riding on horseback quite alone, at least ten paces between himself and his nearest escort, which of course had a striking effect, taking the French on their weak side, and startling even Miss Cushman (who had been murmuring displeasure into my ear for an hour) into an exclamation of 'That's fine, I must say.' Little Wiedeman was in a state of ecstasy, and has been recounting ever since how he called '"Vive Napoleon!" _molto molto duro_,' meaning _very loud_ (his Italian is not very much more correct, you know, than his other languages), and how Napoleon took off his hat to him directly.

I don't see the English papers, but I conclude you are all furious.

You must make up your minds to it nevertheless--the Empire is certain, and the feeling of all but unanimity (whatever the motive) throughout France obvious enough.

Smooth down the lion's mane of the 'Examiner,' and hint that roaring over a desert is a vain thing.

As to Victor Hugo's book, the very enemies of the present state of affairs object to it that _he lies_ simply.