question about a ball to one of the latter, you receive a similar an

swer.

If you speak with enthusiasm of the picture gallery, a Parisian coldly observes," C'est bien vrai, c'est un très beau spectacle." (Yes, it is a very fine spectacle, or sight.)

If a stranger enquire, whether the monthly parade of Bonaparte's troops deserve its celebrity, he is told, "Oui, c'est un très beau spectacle." (Yes, it is a fine spectacle.)

It is also the favourite theme of conversation; and a Parisian, compelled to talk with a foreigner, is sure to begin with the following words: "Allez vous souvent, monsieur, au spectacle? Ne sont ils pas bien beaux nos spectacles?" (Do you often go to the spectacles? Are not our spectacks very fine?)

• A similar observation forms likewise the hospitable kind of consolation which an Englisman sometimes receives, if he complain, that he has not seen much of French society. "Mais cependant, vous ne pouvez pas manquer d'amusement; à Paris les spectacles sont si beaux.' (You cannot want amusement, however; the spectacles at Paris are so fine.)' P.41.

In Paris, a shower of rain is a very serious misfortune; and the Parisians would be happy if that branch of the mundane economy were for ever suspended.

The 18th of Brumaire, that long expected day, began in clouds and rain. The Parisians were au des spir. Every body predicted, that the vast preparations, which had been made for this jubilee, would be thrown away; that the illuminations would fail; in short, that the whole would be an "affaire manquée*."

Those who ventured into the streets, notwithstanding the torrents of rain, heard, on every side, quel mauvais temps ! quel malheur ! vraiment c'est terrible-c'est affreux. La fête auroit été si belle, si ce diable de pluie n'avoit pas tombé.”

The morning passed away without the faintest hopes of better weather, and in mutual condolences on the loss of the beau spectacle, which had been promised for this day. The rejoicings were to begin at four o'clock. About three the weather suddenly changed, the clouds dispersed, the sky became serene. It happened that this took place precisely at the moment, when the first consul appeared at the window of the palace, and every body agreed, that the favourable change was solely produced "par la bonne fortune de Bonaparte,"

P. 44.

As we should say in English, "a lost thing." The French expression is more commonly used, and is infinitely stronger in its meaning. It is adopted on all occasions of misfortune; such as, to deplore the death of a friend, or the loss of a spectacle." A general was lately killed in a duel. A fair Parisian of high fashion, to whom he was much attached, on hearing of the accident, exclaimed, with an accent of deep despair," Que je suis à plaindre! il devoit m'avoir ainenée au bal de l'oj éra demain. Voilà une affaire bien manquée." (How am I to be pitied! he was to have taken me to the ball at the opera to morrow. Here is a lost thing, or a party com pletely deranged.)"

The apathy of the Parisians in the midst of their public rejoicings is another singular feature.

What astonished me most, indeed, the whole day, was the dead calm which prevailed among the spectators. They looked on, walked about, and seemed entertained with the shows which were exhibited; yet no cries of triumph, no shouts of joy, expressed the public satisfaction. The apathy which prevails in this country on all public events, and which has succeeded to the fever of popular violence, is strikingly apparent on all occasions, but on none more than this." P. 49.

The following remarks on the state of society at Paris ap. pear to be founded on correct information, We have omitted a short digression.

As to society, it appears to me, that there are three great divisions, or principal classes, at Paris. The first, in point of antiquity, and perhaps still of public opinion (for, notwithstanding all the laws to the contrary, family prejudices are as strong as ever in France), is that of l'ancienne noblesse, who separate themselves almost entirely from the other classes, and live together at the houses of such of their body, as are still rich enough to give assemblies. The second, which I shall call the governmental set, consists of the ministers, of the counsellors of state, of the ambassadors, of the senators, legislators, tribunes, &c. in short, of all the constituted authorities. The third class is what the pride of the first denominates "les parvenus ou nouveaux riches;" consisting of the wealthiest individuals now in France; of persons, who, taking advantage of the circumstances which have occurred, have enriched themselves during the general wreck of private fortunes and public credit. Army contracts, national estates, and speculations in the funds, have afforded the means, by which many of these individuals have accumulated overgrown fortunes; but several respectable merchants, bankers, and other commercial men, are unjustly confounded with these, and, under the general name of "fournisseurs," held up to public contempt

The first class are still affluent, when spoken of as a body, though few of them have individually large incomes. A distinguished person, connected with the government, and to whom the most important acts of state have been specially entrusted, assures me that the old proprietors still hold two thirds of the landed estates of France; though, in consequence of the heavy taxes laid on them during the revolution, by the loss of their woods, of their feudal rights, and of public offices hereditary in their families, (not to mention the present law of descent, by which all children inherit equally), their incomes, though in different degeees, are, in every case, greatly diminished.

'Some of the old nob esse, notwithstanding their misfortunes, still live with considerable splendour, and have houses "bien montées," in which they give balls and parties. The most distinguished of these are madame la - de, and madame ———, who have each an assembly once in every week. A ci-devant comtesse, belonging to the society, requested the permission of introducing to these houses an

English lady, of whom it will be sufficient to say, that though not of exalted rank, she was unexceptionable in every respect, in birth, in character, in fortune, in person, and in situation of life. I think you will be as much surprised, and as much irritated, as I was, when I add, that this mighty favour was, in both instances, refused. The reason assigned for this strange want of hospitality, has induced me to mention the fact. The lady in question, having been accustomed to the highest circles in her own country, and discovering, for the first time, in this land of "liberty and equality," the humble distance at which the wife of a commoner ought to regard the chaste and learned festivals of aristocracy, could not help expressing her surprise, if not her anger, to the French friend, who had made the application. "Je suis bien fachée," replied madame la comtesse; mais pour vous dire la vérité, the émigrés were treated with so little kindness in London, I mean, by the gentlemen and ladies there (for there is no complaint against your government), that it is impossible to persuade their relations to receive the English chez eux-vraiment je suis au désespoir." P. 54.

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The second class, which I call the governmental, is the most polite to strangers. The second consul has a splendid party every week; and each of the ministers has a day, to which all foreigners may be taken by their respective ministers, after they have been presented at the Tuilleries.

Le Brun, the third consul, frequently gives dinners; and English parties, who have been invited, assure me, that they are particularly pleasant. He is a man of great literary acquirements, and the conversation at his table generally takes a superiour turn.

The ministerial assemblies are crowded; but the houses are large, the attendance good, and the uniforms of the constituted authorities, and the full dress of the ambassadors, give, altogether, a splendour to these meetings, which no others at Paris possess.

The third class-I mean, that of the parvenus"—if not the most elegant, or the most esteemed, is, at least, the most luxurious. Nothing can exceed the splendour of the persons of this description. The furniture of their houses, the dress of their wives, their table, their plate, their villas, in short, all the "agrémens" of life, are in the highest style of Oriental magnificence.

To give you some idea of their manner of living, I will describe to you the house of madame, which I yesterday obtained the permission of seeing, in her absence.

The house is situate in a street leading from the Boulevard, and is approached by a fine court, of considerable length, The back of the house looks on a very pretty garden, arranged à l'Anglaise. It was formerly the residence of a minister of state.

The drawing room, and salle à manger, were not yet finished, The furniture prepared for them was rich. I did not think it particularly beautiful; but the bed room, and bathing cabinet, exceeded in luxury every thing which I ever beheld, or even ventured to imagine. The canopy of the bed was of the finest muslin, the covering of pink satin, the frame of beautiful mahogany, supported by figures

in gold of antique shapes. The steps, which led to this delicious couch, were covered with red velvet, ornamented on each side with artificial flowers, highly scented. On one side stood, on a pedestal, a marble statue of Silence, with this inscription:

"Tutatur somnos et amores conscia lecti.”

⚫ Silence guards the slumbers and the loves of this bed.'

On the other, a very lofty gold stand, for a taper or lamp. A fine mirror filled up one side of the bed, and was reflected by one at the top, and another at the opposite side of the room. The walls were

covered with mahogany, relieved with gold borders, and now and then with glass. The whole in excellent taste. The bathing cabinet, which adjoined, was equally luxurious. The bath, when not in use, forms a sofa, covered with kersey mere edged with gold; and the whole of this cabinet is as pretty as the bed room. Beyond this room

is the bed chamber of monsieur, plain, neat, and unaffected; and on the other side a little closet, covered with green silk, and opening on the garden, in which madame sits, when she amuses herself with drawing. To conclude, I find the "loves," which "Silence guards," and of which this Paphian seat is the witness, are those of January and May; for the wife is twenty (the greatest beauty of Paris), and the husband something less than sixty.' P. 59.

Our author proceeds next to the opening of the legislative body, election of the president, &c. Of this assembly, it is perhaps impossible to entertain a higher respect than is expressed by the French themselves.

Before I conclude this long account, I must mention, with regret, that the persons in the gallery where I sat, spoke with the most sovereign contempt of the legislative body. "Ils font bien," said one man, alluding to the boots, which constitute part of their dress; "de porter des bottes. C'est un habit de voyage-ils ne resteront pas ici long temps." "Nous les payons 10,000 francs," said another, pour ne faire rien, je suis étonné que Bonaparte ne se débarasse pas de ces gens là."- "Je crois bien," cried a third, addressing himself to me, "" que monsieur votre ambassadeur a un revenu à lui plus grand, que celui de tous ces gaillards ensemble. Sans leur traitement de législateur ils mourroient de faim." P. 67.

The account of the school for the deaf and dumb is very interesting, but not more so than that which might be given of a similar very flourishing institution in our own metropolis. We pass to a very striking picture of manners—an evening party.

The lady, at whose house this entertainment was given, belonged to the old court; but having remained in France during the whole of the revolution, has preserved her property. I drove to her hotel, about eight in the evening, and after passing through a dark and dirty antichamber, in which her servants and those of her guests sat very quietly, while I passed, without moving from their seats, I found my way, not without difficulty, into the salon, or drawing room: In this apartment, the walls of which bore the faint resemblance of having been

painted white, some thirty years before, and on which shattered rem nants of tarnished gold might still be discovered, I perceived near the fire, the lady of the mansion. She half rose from her seat, as I aps proached, and after a short " bon jour monsieur," continued in a whisper, an earnest conversation, in which she was engaged with an old gentleman, who, as I have since learnt, was a ci-devant duke, lately returned from emigration. As I was left entirely to myself, (for I was introduced to no one) I had ample time to examine every thing around me. The room, sombre in itself, was rendered still more so, by a patent lamp suspended in the middle, which was the only light I perceived, and which simply answered the purpose of making "darkness visible."

• There were about twenty or thirty persons assembled, of different ages, and of different sexes. Having heard so much of French gayety, I was astonished at the melancholy countenances I saw around me, and at the general stupidity of this party. In one corner was placed a whist table, at which, ci-devant countesses, a member of "l'ancienne académie Française," and a former financier were disputing for sotes. There were round the fire, two rows of fauteuils, or arm-chairs, in which the ladies not occupied with cards, were seated in awful state. Two or three young men dressed à l'Anglaise, with the preposterous addition of immense neckcloths, ear rings, and half a dozen under waistcoats, lounged about the middle of the room, and now and then caught a glimpse of their favourite persons, in an adjoining glass. The fire was monopolized by a party of zealous disputants, who, turning their backs to the company, and talking all together, formed a sepa rate group, or rather a debating society, round the chimney. From the loudness of their voices, and the violence of their gestures, I supsupposed they were discussing some great national question, and expecting to gain much useful intelligence, listened with all the painful attention of extreme curiosity. I soon discovered, to my no small astonishment, that it was not the fate of the nation, but the accuracy of an expression, which excited their zeal. The abbé Delille had, it seems, in a poem lately published, used this phrase,

"Je n'entends que silence, je ne vois que la nuit."

Whether it was possible "to hear silence," and "see night," was the great subject of dispute; and the metaphysical distinctions, nice definitions, and pedantic remarks, which this question excited, formed a curious specimen of the French character. Some of the la dies joined in the debate; and I know not to what height it might have been carried, had not the arrival of the the interrupted the ora tors, and stopped the conversation, with a subject more agreeable to the general taste.

At twelve o'clock, the beverage I have mentioned, which the French think unwholesome at all times, and which even the English fear to take at so late an hour, was placed near the fire, on a large ta ble, surrounded with cakes, creams, custards, a large tureen of soup, and a bowl of punch, the party crowded round the table, and helped themselves to the refreshments it contained. When the ceremony was over, those who did not return to the card tables, entered into conver sation; and as literary subjects were still the favourite theme, a young