extreme--old threadbare frock-coats, once blue, now of any colour, and sufficiently ragged; trousers to match, and mean misshapen forage-caps; arms and accoutrements all wanting--to be sure, some of them carried sticks; knapsacks of long-haired goatskins, once white, but now of a reddish-yellow hue. To these succeeded five or six 4-pounders, in style and equipment a fitting match for such soldiers, who, I should have added, marched along very dejectedly, as if ashamed of their mean appearance. The guns were drawn by little ragged farmers’ horses, with their own common harness, driven by the _cultivateur_ himself in his smock-frock, night-cap, and _sabots_; carriages, deplorably in want of paint, and further disguised by Belgic mud still adhering to them, were loaded (limbers, trails, and all) with women, children, and bundles; a few old cannoneers, quite in keeping with all the rest, walked beside the wheels;--the whole corps more fit to march through Coventry than to accompany the triumphal entry of a monarch into his capital, and that eminently military. The royal carriages, drawn by post-horses, came next, and in outward appearance were little better than those of his majesty’s guns. Louis was in the last carriage, and a dense cloud of pedestrians, with a plentiful admixture of British officers on horseback, closed the procession. I accompanied the throng as far as St Denis, which took up a considerable time, since its movements were necessarily slow. No complimentary movement was made by our troops, although his majesty passed through the midst of us. The more curious crowded to the roadside, which was lined by them, but all in their fatigue-jackets, or even without any--but numbers remained at their occupations, or sitting smoking at a distance. The brigade of Highlanders alone cheered as the King passed through their bivouac. Why was this? Is there any connection between this and the protection afforded the Stuarts by the Bourbon family? Certain it is that the Highlanders alone cheered! The entrance to St Denis was almost impossible, such was the multitude choking up the street, peasantry as well as citizens; and, as the royal carriages approached, they made the air ring with their shouts of “Vive le Roi!” “Vivent les Bourbons!” Only a short month ago, perhaps, these same people, and on this very spot, had shouted as lustily, “Vive l’Empereur!” “Vive Napoleon!” “A bas les Bourbons!” &c. &c. I never felt prouder of being an Englishman! From Garges to St Denis I kept close to the royal carriage, watching the countenance of his majesty in order to detect any emotion. He betrayed none. It was calm, serious, and unvarying in general, occasionally illumined by a faint smile as he returned salutations, but the smile was evanescent--very--and the features immediately resumed their calmness. Our troops seemed to attract considerable interest, particularly the Highlanders; and to every English officer he paid most marked attention, returning their