_À propos_, we have seen the Bourbons. The King is a round, fat man, so fat that in their pictures they dare not give him the proper "_contour_" lest the police should suspect them of wishing to ridicule; but his face is mild and benevolent, and I verily believe his face to be a just reflection of his heart. Then comes Monsieur,[118] a man with more expression, but I did not see enough to form any opinion of my own, and I never heard any very decisive account from any one else. Then comes the Duchesse d'Angoulême.[119] There is no milk and water there. What she really is I may not be able to detect, but I will forfeit my little finger if there is not something passing strange within her. She is called a Bigot and a Devotee; she has seen and felt enough, and more than enough, to make a stronger mind than hers either the one or the other, and I will excuse her if she is both. She is thin and genteel, grave and dignified; she puts her fan to her underlip as Napoleon would put his finger to his forehead, or his hand into his bosom. She stood up, she sat down, she knelt, when others stood or sat or knelt, but I question whether if she had been alone she would have done all according to bell and candle, rule or regulation. Then comes the Duchesse de Berri,[120] a young, pretty thing, a sort of royal kitten; and then comes her husband, the Duc de Berri, a short, vulgar-looking, anything but a kitten he is--but _arrête toi_. I am in the land of vigilance, and already my pen trembles, for there are gendarmes in abundance in the streets, and Messieurs Bruce and Co. in La Force, and I do not wish to join their party. In England I may abuse our Prince Regent and call him fat, dissipated, and extravagant, but in France I dare not say "BO to a goose!" So, Je vous salue, M. le Duc de Berri. _À propos_ of the police. At the marriage of the above much honoured and respected Duc the illumiations were general. Murray's landlord was setting out his tallow candles, when Murray, guessing from certain innuendoes and shrugs (for before us English they are not much afraid of shrugging the shoulders or inventing an occasional "Bah!") that he would have been to the full as pleased if he had been lighting his candles upon the return of Napoleon, asked him, "Mais pourquoi faites vous cela? I suppose you may do as you like?" "Comment donc!" replied the astonished Frenchman; "do as I like! If I did not light my candles with all diligence, I should be called upon to-morrow by the police to pay a forfeit for not rejoicing." With all this I think on the whole the Bourbons are popular; people are accustomed to being bullied out of their opinions and use of their tongues, and they are so sick of war, with all its inconveniences and privations, that they begin to prefer inglorious repose. English money is very much approved of here, but if it could be procured without the personal attendance of the owners, I feel quite confident the French would prefer it.