by the allied French and English troops, in retaliation for the barbarous treatment of Sir Harry Parkes and his fellow-prisoners. The poor child doesn't know any thing of all this, so it is said, but is amused with excuses and deferments by his mother and the surrounding courtiers.

They are taking pains, however, to see that his future harem shall be well furnished. Close by the northern entrance to the Prohibited City, spreading itself all around the gateway and across the road, I saw an encampment of Monguls, who had recently arrived as convoy to some young girls destined to be the future concubines of this mere lad-now about fourteen years old.

This cluster of nomad tents, in close neighborhood to the marble bridge spanning some still waters, on the banks of which was pleasant foliage; the fantastic roofs of azure and goldcolored tiles shining in the sunlight;— this, with the massive walls, and the astronomical castings placed there in position by the Jesuit missionaries some two hundred years ago, was about all that I found really impressive in what Sir R. A. rightly calls the " dirtiest, dustiest, and dreariest of capitals."

But my purpose was not to give a description of the city which stood so long in our geographies as the most populous in the world. It is worth a visit, perhaps, to one who does not chafe much under discomfort, and who wishes to see a place which will probably soon disappear from the list of living centres, and will take its rank with Nineveh, and Petra, and Tyre. If the "signs of the times" mean any thing, they indicate the speedy winding-up of Manchoo affairs within the limits of China proper, whatever may be the fortunes of the reigning family in its original domains. The Mohammedan forces on the northwest; the European influences at work all along the coast and at the central port of Hankow; the unsatisfied rebels of the Tai-ping insurrection-scattered, it is true, but still surviving; the threatening neighborhood of Russia; the old, unsettled

grudges of the Japanese and the Coreans; all these are sources of embarrassment, and presages of future trouble. To cope with all these, the ruling dynasty has no resources, no reliable army, no well-ordered exchequer, no popular enthusiasm; and without these, what can a beleaguered country do?

True, there are the resources of finesse and diplomatic manoeuvring, which the presence at Peking of representatives of five great mutually-jealous powers enables a Chinese ministry to employ with considerable effect, not to speak of the new device of sending an ambassador-general abroad to foster hallucinations in unsophisticated circles.

But there is a limit to this sort of thing, and that limit has very nearly been reached, me judice. One or two imbroglios, such as must needs occur, will demonstrate the weakness of the Government and the rottenness of its administration.

Let us escape from the atmosphere of officiality and stagnation, and return to the scenes of healthful activity and forward movement. Farewell to Peking, city of shams and conventionalities; of dirt, and dust, and dreary distances; of an effete organization, and a selfish bureaucracy! Farewell to ruts and mud-puddles; to coal-carrying camels and costly curio shops, and mules and carts, and circumvallation, as a normal state of social existence! May the "heaps" which mark the sites of Nineveh and Babylon soon be seen upon your site also!

We are carted out of one of the eastward gates-that which leads to T'hoong Chow, the town eighteen miles off, which stands at the head of navigation on the Pei-ho.

But what is this that we see running parallel to our own road? A broad, smooth pathway, newly made, perfectly level, nicely swept, and kept from being intruded on by occasional fencing, very slight, but just enough to indicate "Keep off."

We wonder, we conjecture, we inquire. It is a roadway leading all the

way from the palace-gate at Peking to the chief wharf at Thoong Choweighteen miles; and it has been made "for the nonce," that the young Emperor may accompany to the boat the records of his father's reign, which have been transcribed into Manchoorian, and are to be sent in state to Tartary.

Well, that seems to cap the climax! Such a road can be made for such a purpose; but the highways of the nation, the people's roads and canals, cannot be kept in moderate repair! Let us escape! "Hire, dear friend, true Caledonian master of the dialects, hire for us the first boat you can secure, and let us float away down this stream, muddy in itself, but charming in our eyes because it carries us away from a place where we have been more permanently provoked, and less instructed and entertained, than at any other spot on earth, Aden, perhaps, excepted."

Easier said than done. A vociferous negotiation with two boat-owners; a persistent struggle of two hours' continuance, to get clear of the crust and crowd of a hundred junks or more jammed up in the narrow stream; a final success and a joyful liberation, so that we could seat ourselves quietly under our pent-house cabins, and feel that we were quietly and constantly nearing the outlet to our discomforts. And so we went on, float, float, floating down the stream, with two men lazily sculling, or two others slowly tracking our boat round the countless bends of this uninteresting water-course. It takes four days to ascend the stream, but two days and nights brought us to Tientsin, and on board an American steamer again. Never enjoyed any thing more, in all my life-time, than to reembark on this symbol of a new order of things.

PARIS, Sept. 4th, 1870. MY DEAR FATHER: I write the date to my letter with precision, for it is a great day.

I have heard the Republic proclaimed in Paris!

Proclaimed in the face of the news of the overwhelming defeat of the French, the destruction of MacMahon's army, the capture of the Emperor, the threatened march of the Prussians upon Paris.

France, humiliated by invasion, outraged by Prussian barbarities, beaten, driven back, betrayed, almost ruined, France, or at least Paris, gives itself up, not to panic, but to a perfect outburst of joy, to the jubilation of a fêteday. It crowns the statue of Strasbourg with flowers, it promenades on the Place de la Concorde, the Rue de Rivoli, before the Hôtel de Ville, as if to salute the return of a triumphant army. It forgets Prussia, it forgets even the Emperor, it is wild with delight, crying,

Vive la République, à toi citoyen.

"Ich habe genossen das erdliche Glück,
Ich habe geliebt et gelebt !"

But I will relate in detail what has passed. The French authorities, carrying out their system of treating the people like a set of babies, have shrouded all military operations in mystery; for at least two weeks there has been no official news from the front, and all newspaper or private intelligence strictly forbidden. They do not even publish lists of the killed and wounded! So for some time we have only known that the army of Bazaine was shut up in Metz, completely surrounded by a great

ellipse of the Prussian armies, while MacMahon, with 100,000 men, was directed to the Ardennes, intending to sweep round by the Belgian frontier, and effect a junction with Bazaine. Strasbourg resists one bombardment, Toul another. Alsatia and Lorraine are pillaged without resistance by the Prussian soldiers and the Badois peasants, Chalons evacuated, the Garde Mobile withdrawn towards Paris, the National Guards armed, but everywhere hindered by the jealousy of the Government, who forbids guns, organization, every thing, any thing. Better a thousand times lose France to the Prussians, than save it to the Republicans; on the other hand the people replied with the soldiers, "Chassons les Prussians d'abord, mais nous réglons nos comptes après."

Great confidence was felt in Mac

Mahon's army. Last Sunday, the 29th, it was understood that fighting had begun in the Ardennes, it was impossible to know with what result. Towards the middle of the week we began to receive the Prussian telegrams, announcing a victory in the absence of the slightest information on their own side. (When the Corps Législatif called on Palikao, the Minister of War, to explain how matters stood, he replied curtly that he did not mean to be bothered any more with answering questions.)

The Paris journals interpreted these telegrams as they best could. On Thursday the Gaulois published an elaborate article to prove that the Prussians had only defeated a small detachment of MacMahon's army, left on purpose to amuse them, and cover the retreat of the main body across the Meuse.

On Friday, MacMahon was wounded, half his army put hors de combat, the other half, forty thousand men, surrendered with the town of Sedan, and the valiant Emperor, hastening to salute his destiny, had given himself up prisoner to the King of Prussia. Having plunged the country into the war, betrayed its cause and its resources, defeated, it is said, by his obstinate incapacity this very campaign of MacMahon, the savior of France, true to the traditions of the

Bonapartes, had no thought paramount to the desire of saving himself, and surrendered to the Prussians, from whom he expected more consideration than from the enraged Frenchmen. So perishes a harlequin, and all his paraphernalia of Empire collapses as suddenly as a windbag pricked by a pin. One thinks of Carlyle's description of the death of Louis XV, and all Du Barrydom packing its trunks in the antechamber, ready to whisk off to the infinite nothing whence it had emerged, leaving a strong smell of sulphur behind it.

The news was only transmitted to Paris Saturday afternoon. At the session of the Corps Législatif, Palikao announced reverses, but not the whole truth: perhaps he did not know it. An extraordinary session was convoked for the night, and the House assembled at twelve o'clock. There Palikao declared the situation, and it was noticeable that the captivity of the Emperor was passed over as an unimportant incident in the general disaster. He concluded his report, significantly enough, by admitting. that the council of ministers had no suggestion to offer in the extreme gravity of the situation. Upon that Jules Favre, quite simply, as if taking up the reins of power that the agonizing empire had let fall, pronounced the famous resolution for the déchéance of Louis Napoleon Bonaparte and his dynasty. "His words were received by a profound silence," said the Figaro, who, already prepared to greet the rising sun, had turned its back on the Empire, and forgotten to criticize the "mauvais esprit" of this resolution emanating from the Left Wing. Of all the Right, only one voice was raised to defend the old régime. Pinard, deputy from the North, observed, “We have not the right to proclaim the déchéance."

Nobody paid any attention to this observation. Jules Favre, "out of pity for the nakedness of the situation of the Right," says La Cloche, proposed to adjourn consideration of his proposition till the next morning, and the session closed. "This scrupule alone," continues La Cloche, "saved the Empire from

being condemned, like the royalty, in the night."

All night the wildest rumors circulated through Paris, which was overwhelmed with consternation at the disaster, coming after such confident predictions of victory. I went to the hospital in the morning, and M. Bernutz, the chief, came to the ward in such a state of prostration as was really pitiful to see. He seemed literally overwhelmed, and quite incapable of making the visit, or examining the new patients. Only one thing roused him, and showed the ruling passion strong in death, or despair. A patient remarked that she had been formerly treated by M. Nouat, an old rival of Bernutz in his own specialty; at that he brightened up to retort vivaciously, "Oh, if M. Nouat has cured you it is a proof that you were not very ill!"-a remark which greatly disgusted the patient.

Returned to the Rs, I found already another current of ideas uppermost. For them, the defeat of MacMahon was a fact primed by that of the captivity of the Emperor, and of the proposition for the déchéance. Every one was rushing to the Place de la Concorde in front of the Corps Législatif; my little American friends and myself took a carriage and rushed also.

We arrived at half-past one; the affair had already been decided. At noon the crowd had begun to gather, and found the bridge leading from the Place to the Corps Législatif guarded by sergeants de ville, supported by a double line of municipal guards-the regular army. The crowd grew more and more dense, and, emboldened by the consciousness of the National Guard behind them (which had only just been armed), called upon the policemen to surrender. At this moment the crowd was unarmed, the National Guard nowhere in sight; but, on the other hand, the policemen felt the dissolution of all the powers above them; they had no word of command, they knuckled under completely, gave way, melted into invisibility. As a proof of fraternization, they lighted cigars, and patting the blouses friendlily

on the back, declared themselves their best friends, "honnêtes gens, bons Républicains." "Allez-vous-en, changez vos habits, nous n'avons pas de casse-têtes, nous autres," was the reply. The advice was followed; by one o'clock not a policeman was to be seen in Paris.

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The soldiers of the Municipal were even more easily vanquished. The crowd put out feelers and talked with them. An officer rode up on horseback. "Vous savez," dit-il, vous n'avez rien à craindre de nous," and with that the second barrier melted away like the first, the foot-soldiers mingled with the crowd, the cavalry moved from in front of the bridge, and the people rushed over.

The building itself was surrounded by the National Guard. But they reversed their guns, "mettaient la crosse en air," as a signal that they intended no firing, and the crowd ran up the steps, precipitated itself into the antechambers, and awaited the arrival of the Deputies that were to decide the fate of the nationfate already decided.

The President, Schneider, came out and made a speech. His voice was drowned in the tumult. "Allez-vousen, allez-vous-en, nous n'avons pas besoin de vous." Deputies of the Right tried to make a stand. "Allez-vousen," was the pitiless cry. "Vous avez

perdu la France," cried ER"Laissons-nous la sauver, " and they decamped one after another. One old fellow tried the heroic style; opening his coat, he placed his hands on his expanse of waistcoat, "J'offre mon corps à vos coups," he declaimed, "vieille charogne," (old carcass.) "Vous n'avons pas besoin de vous." And he made tracks also.

Finally some members of the Left tried to persuade the people to leave. "The House is about to deliberate on the gravest questions; we wish to proclaim the déchéance, but in order." "Ce n'est pas assez la déchéance, il faut proclamer la République. Vive la République! Vive la République!" and then with solid fists they began to batter against the solid oaken doors that shut in the Chamber of Deputies. It was

like the booming of distant cannon; it sounded the death-knell of the old régime. The majority felt that the cause was hopeless, and took refuge in the library under the protection of the National Guard. The Republicans spent some minutes in haranguing the crowd, that now had begun to force its way into the Chamber, and then withdrew to the Hôtel de Ville, where they proclaimed the Republic to the expectant masses assembled on the Place. It was the repetition of the Jeu de Paume.

The antechamber remained full. No one credited the report that the Republican deputies had withdrawn-every one was afraid of trickery. Finally,

they burst open all the doors, rushed en masse into the chamber-it was completely empty. The powers that were had abdicated; the people ruled.

In leaving the buildings, M. Robserved to a member of the National Guard, "I recommended the deputies or the Right to claim your protection if they had need of it in getting away." "Il y en a un pourtant, qui ferait bien de ne pas se fier à moi, car je le fusillerais contre cette mur,-c'est Granier de Cassagnac." Three weeks ago this famous blackguard had threatened to shoot down every member of the opposition. "I should have been sorry," said R-to me, "had one of the people shot Cassagnac; but should a member of the National Guard, a bourgeois, undertake the affair, I had nothing to say."

During this time the manifestation had been lively on the Place de la Concorde. On the central pillar of the Corps Législatif some one had written in red letters, "République Française," and cries of "Vive la République !" deafened the ears. There was the most perfect order, united to the most joyful enthusiasm. There was no occasion for fighting any one, for every one was animated by the same sentiment; and in the general outburst of fraternity, each individual seemed really enchanted to grasp the hand of his neighbor, and cry "Vive la République!" A mau in a blouse came up to our carriage and addressed the coachman: "Bon jour, ci

toyen; eh bien, nous l'aurons ce soir, la République ! ” He lighted his cigar, and went off, repeating, "Merci, citoyen, merci, citoyen," as if he could not too often find a pretext for pronouncing the dear word.

People climbed on the statue of the City of Strasbourg, and covered it with flowers, writing inscriptions on the pedestal, "Vive la République ! " The statue of Lyons also was decorated in honor of the army that this city is supposed to send to the relief of the Alsatian capital. Men, mounted on carriages, harangued the people, and especially warned them against the excesses of '48. Squads of the National Guard patrolled the Place, with reversed bayonets, and blouses of all descriptions mingled with the handsome bourgeois uniform. “Vive la Garde Nationale," cried the citizens. "Vive la République, Vive la France! " replied the citizen-soldiers.

We stayed two or three hours at the Place de la Concorde, but during this time many events had transpired elsewhere. A detachment of the National Guard had accompanied a mass of unarmed citizens to the prison of St. Pelagie. "Il nous faut Rochefort," they thundered at the door. "Il est à Vincennes,' was the first reply. "Ce n'est pas vrai, avouaient quelques uns de la garde tout bas. Il est ici." With that the crowd forced its way into the prison, the guard only making a feint of resistance. They demanded Rochefort of the governor. "Mais, messieurs," said the official, "je n'ai pas d'ordres à vous le rendre." "Vos ordres? Les voici," said one burly fellow, showing his fist. "Oh, très bien, messieurs, devant la force, je n'ai rien à dire,”—and he gave up the keys.

He was logical. He had supported an empire of force, which must necessarily crumble before a force superior.

Rochefort was borne in triumph on the shoulders of the people out of the prison, as he had been carried in on the shoulders of policemen nine months before. He was carried to the Hôtel de Ville,-Jules Favre embraced him in public.