With him was a somewhat citizen-looking, but vivacious, elderly man, whom I was at first sorry to see, having wished for half an hour's undisturbed visit to the apostle of Democracy.

But how quickly were those feelings displaced by joy when he named to me the great national lyrist of France, the unequalled Beranger.

I had not expected to see him at all, for he is not one to be seen in any show place; he lives in the hearts of the people, and needs no homage from their eyes.

I was very happy in that little study in presence of these two men, whose influence has been so great, so real.

To me Beranger has been much; his wit, his pathos, his exquisite lyric grace, have made the most delicate strings vibrate, and I can feel, as well as see, what he is in his nation and his place.