Of course, among the friends of exiled _représentants_, among the _littérateurs_ throughout whose ranks these measures are intended to ‘strike terror and inspire respect,’ you would hear that there never was such tyranny since the beginning of mankind. But among the mass of the industrious classes—between whom and the politicians there is internecine war—I fancy that on turning the conversation to either of the most recent events, you would hear something of this sort:—‘_Ça ne m’occupe pas_.’ ‘What is that _to me_?’ ‘_Je suis pour la tranquillité, moi._’ ‘I sold four brooches yesterday.’ The Socialists who have been removed from prison to the colony, it is agreed were ‘pestilent fellows perverting the nation,’ and forbidding to pay tribute to M. Bonaparte. Indeed, they can hardly expect commercial sympathy. ‘Our national honour rose—our stocks fell,’ is Louis Blanc’s perpetual comment on his favourite events, and it is difficult to say which of its two clauses he dwells upon with the intenser relish. It is generally thought by those who think about the matter, that both the transportation, and in all cases, certainly, the exile will only be a temporary measure, and that the great mass of the people in both lists will be allowed to return to their homes when the present season of extreme excitement has passed over. Still, I am not prepared to defend the _number_ of the transportations. That strong measures of the sort were necessary, I make no doubt. If Socialism exist, and the fear of it exist, something must be done to re-assure the people. You will understand that it is not a judicial proceeding either in essence or in form; it is not to be considered as a punishment for what men have done, but as a perfect precaution against what they may do. Certainly, it is to be regretted that the cause of order is so weak as to need such measures; but if it _is_ so weak, the Government must no doubt take them. Of course, however, ‘our brethren,’ who are retained in such numbers to write down Prince Louis, are quite right to use without stint or stopping this most un-English proceeding; it is their case, and you and I from old misdeeds know pretty well how it is to be managed. There will be no imputation of reasonable or humane motives to the Government, and no examination of the existing state of France:—let both these come from the other side—but elegiac eloquence is inexhaustibly exuded—the cruel corners of history are ransacked for petrifying precedents—and I observe much excellent weeping on the Cromwellian deportations and the ten years’ exile of Madame de Staël. But after all they have missed the tempting parallel—I mean the ‘rather long’ proscription list which Octavius—‘_l’ancien neveu de l’ancien oncle_’—concocted with Mark Antony in the marshes of Bononia, and whereby they thoroughly purged old Rome of its turbulent and revolutionary elements. I suspect our estimable contemporaries regret to remember of