Here the friends of royalty, federalism, and an undivided commonwealth, struggle against each other with reciprocal vibrations. Federalism is, however, on the decline, and its supporters, attached as they are to the local prejudices which they contend for a continuation of, perceive the impossibility of carrying their point, and are fast melting into the two other great masses. Royalism, though bent to the earth, is not crushed. Its partizans are still numerous, and its hopes sanguine, too sanguine, I fear, for accomplishment. My political principles are, you see, unchanged since we parted; and I still think a limited monarchy the best of governments. Had I been born a Frenchman, I should have struggled as hard for the revolution of 1789, as I should have resisted with all my might that of 1792. Much as I hate despotism, I am scarcely less a foe to democracy; a sentiment which accords pretty well with those of my royal friends here. Since I have resided among the French, I have met with only one person, a lady (whose husband had once a place in the household, and has emigrated) who has expressed to me a wish to see the old system restored. She, poor woman, cannot separate the splendour of a court, and the unlimited power of a king, from the prosperity and happiness of the people, always describing the latter as a direct and necessary consequence of the former. I am surprized to find that the royalists prefer Count d’Artois to his brother, Monsieur. They call the Count a bold and decided character, although they do not spare his former profligate dissipation. To the little Louis, “_le monarque au berceau_” as they call him, they look rather with regret than expectancy, not unmingled with apprehension, lest violence or treachery should be used against him; but this fear I think groundless, because his preservation will best serve the interest of those whom he is among. I am assured that his morals are corrupted, and his health destroyed.----Unhappy infant! what a lesson on the instability of human grandeur does he furnish! “_Un faible rejetton-------- entre les ruines_ _“De cet arbre fécond, coupé dans ses racines._” Henriade, 7th Canto.