Returning to England from France, I happened to find in an antiquarian bookshop a pamphlet titled “The Great Week in Paris.” It began:
The events which have taken place in Paris have been so extraordinary, that it would require the pen of a Gibbon to give them a suitable colour.
The writer described the situation in France as follows:
There are among the first ranks of society men . . . who sentimentally adhere to those rotten branches of a decayed trunk! some from habit, others from gratitude for past favours, and many from a consciousness of their total unfitness to figure in