"The Republic of Paris isn't worth more than the Republic of Tours," the third Frenchman then told me. "If we have a Republic in France, it will be neither the Republic of M. Gambetta nor the Republic of M. Jules Favre." "And whose Republic then?" "The Republic of M. Thiers--" Whereupon the three Frenchmen began to dispute in earnest. They were very red, shouted loudly, and made violent gestures. The discussion about the three monarchies had been much gentler and much more agreeable than the discussion about the three republics. During the evening these Frenchmen managed to slip into my ear, in turn, two or three little phrases of this kind: "Don't listen," the first one said to me, "to that partisan of the Government of Paris; he is a lawyer who has come here with a commission from M. Jules Favre. So you see he has a big salary, and as he wishes to keep it--" "Don't listen," the second one said to me, "to that partisan of the alleged Republic of M. Thiers; he is only a monarchist, a disguised Orleanist--" "Don't listen," the third one said to me, "to that partisan of the Republic of Tours; he is a gentleman who has come to England to get a loan for the benefit of the Government of Tours; so, as he expects to get a lot of money--" Thus I am, if I reckon correctly, face to face with six governments--three monarchies and three republics. LONDON, _December 6, 1870_. I think that his Excellency, M. de Bernstoff, Prussian Ambassador to England, takes pleasure in making fun of me. I never meet him but that he announces to me that Paris will capitulate the next day. The next day arrives and Paris does not capitulate. However, this evening his Excellency looked so perfectly sure of what he was saying that I think I can prepare to start for Paris. PARIS, _February 20, 1871_. I only left on the 10th of February. At last I am in Paris. I travelled slowly, by short stages. What a lot of burned villages! What a lot of sacked houses! What a lot of devastated forests, dug-up woods, and bridges and railroads destroyed! And these Europeans treat us as barbarians! However, among all these ruins there is one the sight of which filled me with the keenest joy. The palace of Saint-Cloud was the summer palace of the Emperor Napoleon, and not a stone upon a stone remains. I contemplated curiously, eagerly, and for a long time the blackened ruins of this palace. Pieces of old Chinese vases were hidden in the heaps of rubbish among the wreck of marble and fragments of shell. Where did those old Chinese vases come from? Perhaps from the summer palace of our Emperor, from that palace which was devastated, burned, and destroyed by those English and French soldiers who came to bring us civilization. I was extremely well received by the English, who overwhelmed me with invitations and kindnesses; but none the less I hope that the palaces of Buckingham and Windsor will also have their turn. PARIS, _February 25, 1871_.