effect produced, in the fostering of the sentiment, may be more important than ye choose to think or to acknowledge. The same reprehension should be cast upon the greater part of those models and pictures which are exhibited in the _Ecole des beaux arts_, for the prize to be given for the best personification of the French Republic. The great majority of these models represent, once more, a perfect fury of wrath, in all the extravagance of frantic theatrical gesture. But, my good artists, this is a representation of a French Republic such as it was in the worst moments of its last reign--not of the French Republic proclaimed as the living exemplification, not only of liberty, equality, and fraternity, but of peace, and order, and love! Could you do nothing better than make bad imitations of a detestable past? It will be for the famous Minister of the Interior, probably, to decide which of these personifications is to be raised on high as the symbol of the republic. He who offered the prize will probably award it: Paris, then, will soon see what sentiment is to be taught, in the name of all France, to attach to the symbol. There is another little trait connected with a people's sentiments that, slight as it is, may be of more influence in the direction which the violence of popular commotion may take. This little trait, although born of an evil and violent feeling, may have a tendency that not only will not be a harmful one, but may protect from harm. At the commencement of the revolution,--upon every greater or lesser demonstration of popular feeling,--the first cry, to the rich or the supposed rich, was to illuminate their houses in honour of the sovereign people, or rather of those who assumed the rank and title of sovereignty wholly to themselves. Above the cries, "_à bas les riches! à bas les aristocrats!_" prevailed the cry "_des lampions! des lampions!_" So often, and for so long a time, was this cry heard in the streets of Paris, that it has now taken the distinct form of one of those popular shouts used upon all occasions. Is the mob angry, or is it merry, it cries "_des lampions!_" Is it angry only, this cry often changes its wrath to merriment: is it impatient, it cries "_des lampions!_" is it witty, "_des lampions!_" By day as well as night, on all popular occasions, the cry is heard, and now never fails to excite a laugh. In the theatres, is a piece to be damned?--the pit and the galleries cry, "_des lampions!_" Does a declaimer in a street crowd displease the multitude?--it cries again, "_des lampions!_" The words, then, have become a popular demonstrative cry; and who can tell how much in the future this habit may efface the hideous cry of "_à la lanterne_?"--how much the cry for light may cause the people to forget the cry for the darkness of death upon the lamp-post--how much, in truth, popular sentiment may be hereafter influenced by a trait of popular habit so slight, so frivolous, so ridiculous, and yet,