Have you seen M.de la Mare's correspondence with Mirabeau?
And do you ever catch sight of the 'Revue des Deux Mondes'?
In the August number is an excellent and most pleasant article on my husband, elaborately written and so highly appreciatory as well nigh to satisfy _me_.[5] 'Set you down this' that there has sprung up in France lately an ardent admiration of the present English schools of poetry, or rather of the poetry produced by the present English schools, which they consider _an advance upon the poetry of the ages_.

Think of _this_, you English readers who are still wearing broad hems and bombazeens for the Byron and Scott glorious days! Let me think what I can tell you of the President.

I have never seen his face, though he has driven past me in the boulevards, and past these windows constantly, but it is said that he is very like his portraits--and, yes, rumour and the gazettes speak of his riding well.
Wilson and Wiedeman had an excellent view of him the other day as he turned into a courtyard to pay some visit, and she tells me that his carriage was half full of petitions and nosegays thrown through the windows.

What a fourth act of a play we are in just now! It is difficult to guess at the catastrophe.

Certainly he must be very sure of his hold on the people to propose repealing the May edict,[6] and yet there are persons who persist in declaring that nobody cares for him and that even a revision of the constitution will not bring about his re-election.