processions for the blessing of flags and an occasional firing of guns for a victory, or a cry in the streets, ’Notizie della guerra—­leggete, signori;’ this is all we know of Radetsky in Florence; while, for civil politics, the meeting of the senate took place a few days since to the satisfaction of everybody, and the Grand Duke’s speech was generally admired.  The elections have returned moderate men, and many land-proprietors, and Robert, who went out to see the procession of members, was struck by the grave thoughtful faces and the dignity of expression.  We are going some day to hear the debates, but it has pleased their signoria to fix upon twelve (noon) for meeting, and really I do not dare to go out in the sun.  The hour is sufficiently conclusive against dangerous enthusiasm.  Poor France, poor France!  News of the dreadful massacre at Paris just reaches us, and the letters and newspapers not arriving to-day, everybody fears a continuation of the crisis.  How is it to end?  Who ’despairs of the republic?’ Why, I do!  I fear, I fear, that it cannot stand in France, and you seem to have not much more hope.  My husband has a little, with melancholy intermediate prospects; but my own belief that the people have had enough of democratic institutions and will be impatient for a kingship anew.  Whom will they have?  How did you feel when the cry was raised, ‘Vive l’Empereur’?  Only Prince Napoleon is a Napoleon cut out in paper after all.  The Prince de Joinville is said to be very popular.  It makes me giddy to think of the awful precipices which surround France—­to think, too, that the great danger is on the question of property, which is perhaps divided there more justly than in any other country of Europe.  Lamartine has comprehended nothing, that is clear, even if his amount of energy had been effectual....  Yes, do send me the list of Balzac, after ’Les Miseres de la Vie Conjugale,’ I mean.  I left him in the midst of ’La Femme de Soixante Ans,’ who seemed on the point of turning the heads of all ‘la jeunesse’ around her; and, after all, she did not strike me as so charming.  But Balzac charms me, let him write what he will; he’s an inspired man.  Tell me, too, exactly what Sue has done after ‘Martin.’  I read only one volume of ‘Martin.’  And did poor Soulie finish his ‘Dramas’?  And after ‘Lucretia’ what did George Sand write?  When Robert and I are ambitious, we talk of buying Balzac in full some day, to put him up in our bookcase from the convent, if the carved-wood angels, infants and serpents, should not finish mouldering away in horror at the touch of him.  But I fear it will rather be an expensive purchase, even here.  Would that he gave up the drama, for which, as you observe, he has no faculty whatever.  In fact, the faculty he has is the very reverse of the dramatic, ordinarily understood....  Dearest Mr. Kenyon is called quite well and delightful by the whole world, though he suffered from cough in the winter; and he is bringing