Under conduct of my friend, I made my way to the room where the mysterious _ouvrier_ was performing his part of the onerous duty. He greeted me with a brief nod and a grim smile, but did not pretermit his paternal functions. The body which occupied his attention at this crisis of the commonwealth, was a musical deputation, which craved sweet counsel regarding some matter of crochets or of bars. It is not the first time that music has been heard in the midst of stirring events. Nero took a fancy to fiddle when Rome was blazing around him. I could not but admire the gravity with which Albert listened to the somewhat elaborate address, and the dexterity with which he contrived to blend the subjects of pipes and patriotism. “Citizens!” he said, “the Provisional Government are deeply impressed with the importance of the views which you advocate. Republican institutions cannot hope to exist without music, for to the sound of music even the spheres themselves revolve in the mighty and illimitable expanse of ether. “At this crisis your suggestions become doubly valuable. I have listened to them with emotions which I would struggle in vain to express. Oh, that we may see the day when, with a glorious nation as an orchestra, the psalm of universal freedom may rise in a swell of triumphant jubilee! “And it will come! Rely upon us. Return to your homes. Cherish fraternity and music. Meantime we shall work without intermission for your sake. Harmony is our sole object: believe me that, in reconstituted France, there shall be nothing but perfect harmony!” The deputation withdrew in tears; and another entered to state certain grievances touching the manufacture of steel beads. I need not say that in this, as in several other instances, the _ouvrier_ comported himself like an eminent member of the Society of Universal Knowledge. “That’s the last of them, praise be to Mumbo Jumbo!” said he, as the representatives of the shoeblacks departed. “Faith, this is work hard enough to kill a horse. So, Mr Dunshunner! you have been getting up a counter-revolution at the Tuilleries, I see. How are Monsieur Potard and all the rest of your colleagues?” “I am afraid they are finally expelled from paradise,” said I. “Serve them right! a parcel of democratic scum. And what has become of Citizen Bagsby?” “I have sent him to my hotel. He was in reality very near becoming an actual child of France.” And I told the story of the nuptials, at which the _ouvrier_ nearly split himself with laughter. “And now, Mr Dunshunner,” said he at length, “may I ask the nature of your plans?” “These may depend a good deal upon your advice,” said I. “I never give advice,” replied the _ouvrier_ with a nasal twitch. “Sometimes it is rather dangerous. But tell me—what would you think of the state of the British government, if Earl Grey at a cabinet-council were to threaten to call in the mob, and if Lord Johnny Russell prevented him by clapping a pistol to his ear?”