Their surprise at seeing the Prussians victors at the doors of Paris, is much that which the Americans would feel if a war with the Sioux Indians were to bring these savages to the suburbs of New York. The French have now learnt that they are not invincible, and that if war may mean victory, it may also mean defeat, invasion, and ruin. When, therefore, they have paid the bill for their _a Berlin_ folly, they will think twice before they open a fresh account with fortune. I would recommend sightseers to defer their visit to Paris for the present, as during the armistice it will not be a very pleasant residence for foreigners. I doubt whether the elections will go off, and the decisions of the National Assembly be known without disturbances. The vainest of the vain, irritable to madness by their disasters, the Parisians are in no humour to welcome strangers. The world has held aloof whilst the "capital of civilisation" has been bombarded by the "hordes of Attila," and there is consequently, just now, no very friendly feeling towards the world. Of news, there is very little. We are in a state of physical and moral collapse. The groups of patriots which invested the Boulevards on the first announcement of the capitulation have disappeared; and the gatherings of National Guards, who announced their intention to die rather than submit, have discontinued their sittings, owing it, as they said, to their country to live for her. No one hardly now affects to conceal his joy that all is over. Every citizen with whom one speaks, tells you that it will be the lasting shame of Paris that with its numerous army it not only failed to force the Prussians to raise the siege, but also allowed them whenever they pleased to detach corps d'armee against the French generals in the provinces. This, of course, is the fault of the Government of Trochu and of the Republic, and having thus washed his hands of everything that has occurred, the citizen goes on his way rejoicing. The Mobiles make no secret of their delight at the thought of getting back to their homes. Whatever the Parisians may think of them, they do not think much of the Parisians. The army, and more particularly the officers, are very indignant at the terms of the armistice. They bitterly say that they would far rather have preferred to have been made prisoners of war at once, and they feel that they are in pawn in Paris, a pledge that peace will be made. M. Jules Ferry was treated so coldly the other day by General Vinoy's staff, when he went upon some business to the headquarters of the Commander-in-Chief, that he asked the cause, and was told in plain terms that he and his colleagues had trifled with the honour of the army. The armistice was, as you are aware, concluded by M. Jules Favre in person. It was then thought necessary to send a General to confer with Count Moltke on matters of detail. General Trochu seized upon this occasion to assert