All this will doubtless be received as a very probable tale by those who have given full credit to all the stories I have alluded to in the foregoing pages. POSTSCRIPT TO THE ELEVENTH EDITION. When any dramatic piece _takes_—as the phrase is—with the Public, it will usually be represented again and again with still-continued applause; and sometimes imitations of it will be produced; so that the same drama in substance will, with occasional slight variations in the plot, and changes of names, long keep possession of the stage. Something like this has taken place with respect to that curious tragi-comedy—the scene of it laid in France—which has engaged the attention of the British public for about sixty years; during which it has been "exhibited to crowded houses"—viz., coffee-houses, reading-rooms, &c., with unabated interest. The outline of this drama, or series of dramas, may be thus sketched: _Dramatis Personæ._ A. A King or other Sovereign. B. His Queen. C. The Heir apparent. D. E. F. His Ministers. G. H. I. J. K. Demagogues. L. A popular leader of superior ingenuity, who becomes ultimately supreme ruler under the title of Dictator, Consul, Emperor, King, President, or some other. Soldiers, Senators, Executioners, and other functionaries, Citizens, Fishwomen, &c. _Scene_, Paris. (1.) The first Act of one of these dramas represents a monarchy, somewhat troubled by murmurs of disaffection, suspicions of conspiracy, &c. (2.) Second Act, a rebellion; in which ultimately the government is overthrown. (3.) Act the third, a provisional government established, on principles of liberty, equality, fraternity, &c. (4.) Act the fourth, struggles of various parties for power, carried on with sundry intrigues, and sanguinary conflicts. (5.) Act the fifth, the re-establishment of some form of absolute monarchy. And from this point we start afresh, and begin the same business over again, with sundry fresh interludes. All this is highly amusing to the English Public to _hear_ and _read_ of; but I doubt whether our countrymen would like to be actual _performers_ in such a drama. Whether the French really are so, or whether they are mystifying us in the accounts they send over, I will not presume to decide. But if the former supposition be the true one,—if they have been so long really acting over and over again in their own persons such a drama, it must be allowed that they deserve to be characterized as they have been in the description given of certain European nations: "An Englishman," it has been said, "is never happy but when he is miserable; a Scotchman is never at home but when he is abroad; an Irishman is never at peace but when he is fighting; a Spaniard is never at liberty but when he is enslaved; and a Frenchman is never settled but when he is engaged in a revolution." POSTSCRIPT TO THE TWELFTH EDITION.