the promenade, what groups of
passably pretty ladies, with excessively pretty bonnets, announcing in
their hues of light green, peach-blossom, and primrose the approach
of spring, and charming children, for French children are charming! I
cannot speak with equal approbation of the files of men sauntering
arm in arm. One sees few fine-looking men in Paris: the air,
half-military, half-dandy, of self-esteem and _savoir-faire_, is not
particularly interesting; nor are the glassy stare and fumes of bad
cigars exactly what one most desires to encounter, when the heart
is opened by the breath of spring zephyrs and the hope of buds and
blossoms.

But a French crowd is always gay, full of quick turns and drolleries;
most amusing when most petulant, it represents what is so agreeable
in the character of the nation. We have now seen it on two good
occasions, the festivities of the new year, and just after we came was
the procession of the _Fat Ox_, described, if I mistake not, by Eugene
Sue. An immense crowd thronged the streets this year to see it,
but few figures and little invention followed the emblem of plenty;
indeed, few among the people could have had the heart for such a sham,
knowing how the poorer classes have suffered from hunger this winter.
All signs of this are kept out of sight in Paris. A pamphlet, called
"The Voice of Famine," stating facts, though in the tone of vulgar
and exaggerated declamation, unhappily common to productions on the
radical side, was suppressed almost as soon as published; but the fact
cannot be suppressed, that the people in the provinces have suffered
most terribly amid the vaunted prosperity of France.

While Louis Philippe lives, the gases, compressed by his strong grasp,
may not burst up to light; but the need of some radical measures of
reform is not less strongly felt in France than elsewhere, and the
time will come before long when such will be imperatively demanded.
The doctrines of Fourier are making considerable progress, and
wherever they spread, the necessity of some practical application of
the precepts of Christ, in lieu of the mummeries of a worn-out ritual,
cannot fail to be felt. The more I see of the terrible ills which
infest the body politic of Europe, the more indignation I feel at
the selfishness or stupidity of those in my own country who oppose
an examination of these subjects,--such as is animated by the hope of
prevention. The mind of Fourier was, in many respect