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The Life and Letters of John Gibson Lockhart
Chapter 21: 1842-50
John Gibson Lockhart to Charlotte Lockhart Hope, 31 December 1848
INTRODUCTION & INDEXES
DOCUMENT INFORMATION
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Vol. I. Preface
Vol. I Contents.
Chapter 1: 1794-1808
Chapter 2: 1808-13
Chapter 3: 1813-15
Chapter 4: 1815-17
Chapter 5: 1817-18
Chapter 6: 1817-19
Chapter 7: 1818-20
Chapter 8: 1819-20
Chapter 9: 1820-21
Chapter 10: 1821-24
Chapter 11: 1817-24
Chapter 12: 1821-25
Chapter 13: 1826
Vol. II Contents
Chapter 14: 1826-32
Chapter 15: 1828-32
Chapter 16: 1832-36
Chapter 17: 1837-39
Chapter 18: 1837-43
Chapter 19: 1828-48
Chapter 20: 1826-52
Chapter 21: 1842-50
Chapter 22: 1850-53
Chapter 23: 1853-54
Chapter 24: Conclusion
Vol. II Index
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“Consule Ludovico, Paris,
December 31, 1848.

“My dear Charlotte,—This is the last night of 1848, and I pray that 1849 may be a happy year for you. This morning I had your note, for which I thank you, though its contents were not over satisfactory.

“I shall not write at length until I get home. The only result of all I have seen and heard is that this L. N. B.1 concern must come to an end very soon: the bets are within three months. I was at one sitting of the Assembly—a horrid row, indeed—in a place as big as our opera-house, but made chiefly of pasteboard, and which a Mirabeau would roar down, I believe, in ten minutes. Nothing like argument can be even attempted where there are from 1000 to 1500 French people, male and female, all crammed together, almost all jabbering. Poor little Marrast is not heard, hardly seen; his hammer and bell no more heeded than his white gloves and other barber-like ornaments.

“We have seen two plays, both very cleverly

1 Louis Napoleon Bonaparte.

320 LIFE OF J. G. LOCKHART.  
acted and very amusing, on the state of public affairs, and I hear there is a third at some third theatre to the same tune, that is, the most scornful derision of this and all revolutions—and with what gusto all the audiences gulp it! Then, to-day, we heard the great Protestant preacher, Cocquerel, who is, I think, the best preacher I ever heard, and whose sermon was full of most sad reflections on the ending of a year of ‘wanton mischief.’ He said, so far from predicting what would occur before the end of 1849, he was sure all would agree that anything might fall out before the end of another twenty-four hours.

“L. N. B. is an ass. At his first dinner last Friday there were two ladies, and one of them was the Guiccioli,1 now Madame de Boissy! Secundo, when all the world is willing to forget Strasbourg, he makes a dust about the bills. We walked past the Elysée to-day, and it looked as military as it ever could have done in the time of Mon oncle.

“Well, good night, and all good wishes to Hope and you. This is a shabby note, but I am very badly colded to-night, and must go to bed.—Affectionately yours,

J. G. Lockhart.”