Several members of the Society of Friends from Boston and Philadelphia, who had attended the World’s Anti-slavery Convention in London, joined our party for a trip on the Continent.  Though opposed to war, they all took a deep interest in the national excitement and in the pageants that heralded the expected arrival of the hero from Saint Helena.  As they all wore military coats of the time of George Fox, the soldiers, supposing they belonged to the army of some country, gave them the military salute wherever we went, much to their annoyance and our amusement.

In going the rounds, Miss Pugh amused us by reading aloud the description of what we were admiring and the historical events connected with that particular building or locality.  We urged her to spend the time taking in all she could see and to read up afterward; but no, a history of France and Galignani’s guide she carried everywhere, and, while the rest of us looked until we were fully satisfied, she took a bird’s-eye view and read the description.  Dear little woman!  She was a fine scholar, a good historian, was well informed on all subjects and countries, proved an invaluable traveling companion, and could tell more of what we saw than all the rest of us together.

On several occasions we chanced to meet Louis Philippe dashing by in an open barouche.  We felt great satisfaction in remembering that at one time he was an exile in our country, where he earned his living by teaching school.  What an honor for Yankee children to have been taught, by a French king, the rudiments of his language.

Having been accustomed to the Puritan Sunday of restraint and solemnity, I found that day in Paris gay and charming.  The first time I entered into some of the festivities, I really expected to be struck by lightning.  The libraries, art galleries, concert halls, and theaters were all open to the people.  Bands of music were playing in the parks, where whole families, with their luncheons, spent the day—­husbands, wives, and children, on an excursion together.  The boats on the Seine and all public conveyances were crowded.  Those who had but this one day for pleasure seemed determined to make the most of it.  A wonderful contrast with that gloomy day in London, where all places of amusement were closed and nothing open to the people but the churches and drinking saloons.  The streets and houses in which Voltaire, La Fayette, Mme. de Stael, Mme. Roland, Charlotte Corday, and other famous men and women lived and died, were pointed out to us.  We little thought, then, of all the terrible scenes to be enacted in Paris, nor that France would emerge from the dangers that beset her on every side into a sister republic.  It has been a wonderful achievement, with kings and Popes all plotting against her experiment, that she has succeeded in putting kingcraft under her feet and proclaimed liberty, equality, fraternity for her people.