Had I been in America, where colour is considered a crime, I would not have been seen at such a gathering, unless as a servant. In company with several delegates, we left the Bedford Hotel for the mansion of the Minister of Foreign Affairs; and, on arriving, we found a file of soldiers drawn up before the gate. This did not seem much like peace: however, it was merely done in honour of the company. We entered the building through massive doors and resigned ourselves into the hands of good-looking waiters in white wigs; and, after our names were duly announced, were passed from room to room till I was presented to Madame de Tocqueville, who was standing near the centre of the large drawing-room, with a bouquet in her hand. I was about passing on, when the gentleman who introduced me intimated that I was an "American slave." At the announcement of this fact the distinguished lady extended her hand and gave me a cordial welcome--at the same time saying, "I hope you feel yourself free in Paris." Having accepted an invitation to a seat by the lady's side, who seated herself on a sofa, I was soon what I most dislike, "the observed of all observers." I recognised among many of my own countrymen, who were gazing at me, the American Consul, Mr. Walsh. My position did not improve his looks. The company present on this occasion were variously estimated at from one thousand to fifteen hundred. Among these were the Ambassadors from the different countries represented at the French metropolis, and many of the _elite_ of Paris. One could not but be interested with the difference in dress, looks, and manners of this assemblage of strangers whose language was as different as their general appearance. Delight seemed to beam in every countenance as the living stream floated from one room to another. The house and gardens were illuminated in the most gorgeous manner. Red, yellow, blue, green, and many other coloured lamps, suspended from the branches of the trees in the gardens, gave life and animation to the whole scene out of doors. The soirée passed off satisfactorily to all parties; and by twelve o'clock I was again at my Hotel.

Through the politeness of the government the members of the Congress have not only had the pleasure of seeing all the public works free, and without special ticket, but the palaces of Versailles and St. Cloud, together with their splendid grounds, have been thrown open, and the water-works set to playing in both places. This mark of respect for the Peace movement is commendable in the French; and were I not such a strenuous friend of free speech, this act would cause me to overlook the padlocks that the government put upon our lips in the Congress.

Three Years in Europe — Part 32