Was at the Opera last night, and saw the Duc d'Orléans there with his family. They are a fine-looking flock, male and female, and looked as happy as they are said to be. I know no position more enviable than that of the Duc d'Orléans. Blessed with health, a princely revenue, an admirable wife, fine children, and many friends, he can have nothing to desire but a continuance of these blessings. Having experienced adversity, and nobly endured the ordeal, he must feel with an increased zest the happiness now accorded to him,--a happiness that seems so full and complete, that I can fancy no addition possible to it. His vast wealth may enable him to exercise a generosity that even sovereigns can rarely practise; his exalted rank, while it places him near a throne, precludes him from the eating cares that never fail to attend even the most solidly established one, and leaves him free to enjoy the happiness of domestic life in a family circle said to contain every ingredient for creating it. The fondest husband, father, and brother, he is fortunate beyond most men in his domestic relations, and furnishes to France a bright example of irreproachable conduct and well-merited felicity in them all. In the possession of so many blessings, I should, were I in his position (and he probably does, or he is not the sensible man I take him to be), tremble at the possibility of any event that could call him from the calm enjoyment of them to the giddy height and uneasy seat of a throne. The present king is in the vale of years, the Dauphin not young, and the Duc de Bordeaux is but a child. Should any thing occur to this child, then would the Duc d'Orléans stand in direct line after the Dauphin. I thought of this contingency last night as I looked on the happy family, and felt assured that were the Duc d'Orléans called to reign in France, these same faces would look less cloudless than they did then, for I am one of those who believe that "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown." With a good sense that characterises the Duc d'Orléans, he has sent his sons to public schools--a measure well calculated not only to give them a just knowledge of the world, so often denied to princes, but to render them popular. The Duc de Chartres is an exceedingly handsome young man, and his brothers are fine youths. The Princesses are brought up immediately under the eye of their mother, who is allowed by every one to be a faultless model for her sex. The Duc d'Orléans is said to be wholly engrossed in the future prospects of his children, and in insuring, as far as human foresight can insure, their prosperity.