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 THE 
 
 IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO 
 
 THE IDLER IN ITALY." 
 
 BY 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON. 
 
 IN TWO VOUIMKS, 
 VOL. I. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MART.BOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1842. 
 
Vd '-' 
 
 THE 
 
 IDLER IN FRANCE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NISMES. 
 
 I HAVE omitted to notice the route to this 
 place, having formerly described the greater 
 portion of it. I remarked a considerable im- 
 provement in the different towns we passed 
 through : the people look cleaner, and an air 
 of business has replaced the stagnation that 
 used to prevail, except in Marseilles and 
 Toulon, which were always busy cities. 
 
 Nismes surpasses my expectations, although 
 they had been gi^eatly excited, and amply 
 repays the long detour we have made to 
 visit it. 
 
 VOL. I. I B 
 
 252572 
 
2 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 When I look round on the objects of anti- 
 quity that meet my eye on every side, and 
 above all on the Amphitheatre and Maison 
 Carree, I am forced to admit that Italy has 
 nothing to equal the two last : for if the 
 Coliseum may be said to surpass the amphi- 
 theatre in dimensions, the wonderful state of 
 preservation of the latter renders it more in- 
 teresting ; and the Maison Carree, it must be 
 allowed, stands without a competitor. Well 
 might the Abbe Barthelmi, in his Voyage 
 d^AnacharsiSi call it the masterpiece of ancient 
 architecture and the despair of modern ! 
 
 The antiquities of Nismes have another 
 advantage over those of Italy : they are kept 
 w^holly free from the disgusting entourage 
 that impairs the effect of the latter ; and in 
 examining them in the interior or exterior, 
 no risk is incurred of encountering aught 
 offensive to the olfactory nerves, or injurious 
 to the chaussure. 
 
 We devoted last evening to walking round 
 
NISMES. 
 
 the toT\Ti, and so cloudless was the sky, so 
 genial the air, and so striking the monuments 
 of Roman splendour, that I could have fancied 
 myself again transported to Italy. 
 
 Our inn, the Hotel du Midi, is an ex- 
 cellent one ; the apartments good, and the 
 cuisine soignee. In this latter point the 
 French hotels are far superior to the Italian ; 
 hut in civility and attention, the hosts of Italy 
 have the advantage. 
 
 We had no sooner dined than half-a-dozen 
 persons, laden with silk handkerchiefs and 
 rihands, brocaded with gold and silver, and silk 
 stockings, and crapes, all the manufacture of 
 Nismes, came to display their merchandise. 
 The specimens were good, and the prices 
 moderate ; so we bought some of each, much to 
 the satisfaction of the parties selling, and also 
 of the host, who seemed to take a more than 
 common interest in the sale, whether wholly 
 from patriotic feelings or not, I will not pre* 
 tend to say. 
 
4 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The Maison Carree, of all the buildings of 
 antiquity I have yet seen, is the one which 
 has most successfully resisted the numerous 
 assaults of time, weather, Vandalism, and the 
 not less barbarous attacks of those into whose 
 merciless hands it has afterwards fallen. In 
 the early part of the Christian ages it was 
 converted into a church, and dedicated to St, 
 Etienne, the martyr ; and in the eleventh cen- 
 tury it was used as the H6tel-de-Ville. It was 
 then given to a certain Pierre Boys, in ex- 
 change for a piece of ground to erect a new 
 hotel-de-ville ; and he, after having degraded it 
 by using a portion of it as a party-wall to a 
 mean dwelling he erected adjoining it, disposed 
 of it to a Sieur Bruyes, who, still more bar- 
 barous than Pierre Boys, converted it into 
 a stable. In I67O, it was purchased by the 
 Augustin monks from the descendants of 
 Bruyes, and once more used as a church ; and, 
 in 1789, it was taken from the Augustin 
 monks for the purposes of the administration 
 
NISMES. 
 
 of the department. From that period, every 
 thing has been done for its preservation. 
 Cleared from the mean houses which had been 
 built around it, and enclosed by an iron pa- 
 lisade, which protects it from mischievous 
 hands, it now stands isolated in the centre of a 
 square, or place, where it can be seen at every 
 side. Poldo d'Albenas, a quaint old writer, 
 whose book I glanced over to-day, attributes 
 the preservation of the Maison Carree to the 
 fortunate horoscope of the spot on which it 
 stands. His lamentations for the insults 
 offered to this building are really passionate. 
 The Maison CaiTee is not square, though its 
 denomination might lead one to suppose it to 
 be so, being nearly eighty feet long, and only 
 thirtv-eiofht feet wide. Elevated on a base 
 of cut stone, it is ascended by a flight of steps, 
 which extends the length of the base in front. 
 The walls of the building are of a fine white 
 stone, and are admirablv constructed. 
 
6 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The edifice has thirty fluted columns, with 
 Corinthian capitals beautifully sculptured, on 
 which rests the architrave, with frieze and 
 cornice. This last is ornamented with sculp- 
 ture ; and the frieze, with foliage finely exe- 
 cuted. 
 
 The entrance is by a portico, open on three 
 sides, and supported by two columns, included 
 in the thirty already named, of which six form 
 the front, and extend to the fourth, when 
 commences the wall of the building, in which 
 the other columns are half imbedded, being 
 united in the building with its architrave. 
 The fronton, which is over the portico, has 
 no ornament in the centre ; neither has the 
 Meze nor architrave : but some holes mark 
 where the bronze letters of an inscription 
 were once inserted. 
 
 This inscription has been conjectured, by the 
 ingenious mode of placing on paper the exact 
 dimensions of the holes which formerly con- 
 
NISMES. 7 
 
 tained the letters of it, and is now said to be as 
 follows : — 
 
 C. CESARI AUGUSTI. F. COS. L. CiESARI AUGUSTI. 
 
 F. cos. DESIGNATO PRINCIPIBUS 
 
 JUVENTUTES. 
 
 But as more holes are found than would be 
 filled by these letters, the conclusion does not 
 seem to me to be justified. 
 
 At the far end of the portico is the door of 
 entrance, the only opening by which light is 
 admitted to the building. It is ver}' lofty, and 
 on each side is a pilaster ; beneath the cornice 
 are two long- cut stones, which advance like a 
 kind of architrave, pierced by a square hole 
 of above twelve inches, supposed to have been 
 intended to support a bronze door. 
 
 The orioinal destination of this beautiful 
 edifice still furnishes a subject for discussion 
 among the antiquaries ; some asserting it to 
 have been erected by the Emperor Adrian in 
 honour of Plotina, while others maintain it to 
 have been a forum. 
 
8 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 At present, it is used as a museum for the 
 antiquities discovered at Nismes, and contains 
 some admirable specimens. Among these are a 
 torso in marble of a Roman knight, in a cuirass, 
 and another colossal torso, with a charming little 
 draped statue seated in a curiale chair, and 
 holding a cornucopia in the left hand ; a ci- 
 nery monument, enriched with bassi-relievi, 
 representing a human sacrifice ; a bronze head 
 of Apollo, much injured; and a Janus. 
 
 A funereal monument found in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Nismes in 1824, offers a very 
 interesting object, being in a good state of 
 preservation. It is richly decorated, and by 
 the inscription is proved to have been that 
 of Marcus Attius, aged twenty -five years, 
 erected to him by his mother Coelia, daughter 
 of Sextus Paternus. 
 
 So fine is the proportion, so exquisite is the 
 finish, and so wonderful is the preservation 
 of the Mai son Carree, that I confess I had 
 much more pleasure in contemplating its ex- 
 
NISMES. 
 
 terior, than in examining all that it contains, 
 though many of these objects are well worth 
 inspection. 
 
 I should like to have a small model of it exe- 
 cuted in silver, as an ornament for the centre 
 of a table ; but it would require the hand of 
 a master to do justice to the olive leaves of 
 the capitals of the columns ; that is, if they 
 were faithfully copied fi'om the original. 
 
 It was, if I remember rightly. Cardinal Albe- 
 roni who observed that this beautiful building 
 ought to be preserved in a golden etui; and 
 its compactness and exquisite finish prove that 
 the implied eulogium was not unmerited. 
 
 I have now^here else noticed the introduction 
 of olive leaves in Corinthian capitals instead 
 of those of the acanthus ; the efifect of which is 
 verv o'ood. A desio^n was once formed of remov- 
 inof the Maison Carree to Versailles. Colbert 
 was the originator of this barbarous project, 
 w^hich, however, was fortunately abandoned 
 from the fear of impairing, if not destroying, 
 
10 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the beauty of the building. The Emperor 
 Napoleon is said to have entertained a similar 
 notion, and meant to grace Paris with this 
 model of architectural perfection; but it was 
 found to be too solidly built to admit of re- 
 moval, and he who could shake empires, could 
 not stir the Maison Carree, 
 
 The transportation of antiquities from 
 their original site can never be excused, 
 except in cases where it was the only means 
 of insuring their preservation. All the powder 
 of association is lost when they are transferred 
 to other places ; and the view of them ceases 
 to afford that satisfaction experienced when 
 beheld where they were primarily destined to 
 stand. I can no more fancy the Maison Carree 
 appropriately placed in the bustle and gaiety 
 of Paris, than I could endure to see one of 
 the temples at Psestum stuck down at Charing 
 Cross. 
 
 One loves, when contemplating such precious 
 memorials of antiquity, to look around on the 
 
NISMES. 11 
 
 objects in nature, still wearing the same as- 
 pect as when they were reared. The hills 
 and mountains, unlike the productions of 
 man, change not; and nowhere can the frag- 
 ments of a bygone age appear to such ad- 
 vantage as on the spots selected for their 
 erection, where their vicinity to peculiar 
 scenerv had been taken into consideration. 
 
 We spent a considerable time in examining 
 the Amphitheatre, and so well is it preserved, 
 that one can hardly bring one's self to believe 
 that so many centuries have elapsed since it 
 was built ; and that generation after genera- 
 tion has passed away, who have looked on this 
 edifice which now meets my view, so little 
 changed by the ravages of that ruthless con- 
 queror Time, or the still more ruthless Visi- 
 goths who converted it into a citadel, flanking 
 the eastern door with two towers. In 737 
 Charles Martel besieged the Saracens, and set 
 fire to it, and after their expulsion it continued 
 to be used as a citadel. 
 
12 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The form of this fine building is elliptical, 
 and some notion of its vast extent may be 
 formed, when it is stated to have been capable 
 of containing above 17,000 spectators. 
 
 Its fa9ade consists of two rows of porticoes, 
 forminof two galleries one over the other, 
 composing sixty arcades, divided by the same 
 number of Tuscan pilasters in the first range, 
 and of Doric columns in the upper, and an 
 attic, which crowns all. Four principal doors, 
 fronting the four cardinal points, open into 
 the amphitheatre, divided at nearly equal 
 distances one from the other. 
 
 The attic has no arcades, pilasters, or 
 columns ; but a narrow ledge runs along it, 
 which was probably used for the purpose of 
 approaching the projecting consoles, 120 in 
 number, placed in couples at equal distances 
 between two columns, and pierced with a 
 large hole, which corresponds with a similar 
 one in the cornice, evidently meant for secur- 
 ing the awnings used to prevent the spectators 
 
NISMES. 13 
 
 from being inconvenienced by the rain or 
 
 sun. 
 
 These awTiings did not extend to the arena, 
 which was usually left open, but were uni- 
 Tersally adopted in all the Roman amphi- 
 theatres, after their introduction by Q. Catul- 
 lus. The vast extent and extraordinaiy com- 
 modiousness of the amphitheatres erected by 
 the Romans, prove not only the love of the 
 sports exhibited in them entertained by that 
 people, but the attention paid to their health 
 and comfort by the architects who planned these 
 buildino-s. The numerous vomitories were 
 not amongst the least important of these com- 
 forts, securino- a safe retreat from the theatre 
 in all cases of emergency, and precluding those 
 fearful accidents that in our times have not 
 unfrequently occurred, when an alarm of fire 
 has been given. The mode of arrangements, 
 too, saved the spectators from all the de- 
 leterious results of impure air, while the ve- 
 
14 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 larium preserved them from the sun. But 
 not only were the spectators screened from 
 too fervid heat, hut they could retreat at 
 pleasure, in case of rain or storm, into the 
 galleries, where they were sheltered from the 
 rain. Our superior civilization and refinement 
 have not led to an equal attention to safety 
 and comfort in the mode of our ingress and 
 egress from theatres, or to their ventilation ; 
 hut perhaps this omission may be accounted 
 for by the difference of our habits from 
 those of the Romans. Public amusements 
 were deemed as essential to their comfort, as 
 the enjoyment of home is to ours; and, conse- 
 quently, while we prefer home — and long may 
 we continue to do so — our theatres will not 
 be either so vast or so commodious as in those 
 times and countries, where domestic happiness 
 was so much less understood or provided 
 for. 
 
 The erection of this magnificent edifice is 
 
NISMES. 15 
 
 attributed to Vespasian, Titus, or Domitian, 
 from a fragment of an inscription discovered 
 here some fourteen or fifteen years ago, of 
 which the following is a transcript : — 
 
 VIII. TRI. PO 
 
 And as only these three filled the consulate eight 
 times since Tiberius, in w^hose age no amphi- 
 theatre had been built in the Roman provinces, 
 to one of them is adjudged its elevation. 
 
 Could I only remember one half the erudition 
 poured forth on my addled brain by the ci- 
 cerone, I might fill several pages, and fatigue 
 others nearly as much as he fatigued me; but 
 I will have pity on my readers, and spare them 
 the elaborate details, profound speculations, 
 ingenious hypotheses, and archaiological lore 
 that assailed me, and wish them, should they 
 ever visit Nismes, that which was denied me — 
 a tranquil and uninterrupted contemplation of 
 its interesting antiquities, free from the verb- 
 iage of a conscientious cicerone, who thinks 
 
16 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 himself in duty bound to relate all that he has 
 ever heard or read relative to the objects he 
 points out. 
 
 Even now my poor head rings with the names 
 of Caius and Lucius Csesar, Tiberius, Trajan, 
 Adrian, Diocletian, and Heaven only knows 
 how many other Roman worthies, to whom 
 Nismes owes its attractions, not one of whom 
 did this learned Theban omit to enumerate. 
 
 Many of the antiquities of Nismes, which 
 we went over to-day, might well command 
 attention, were they not in the vicinity of two 
 such remarkable and well-preserved monu- 
 ments as the Amphitheatre and Maison 
 Carree, 
 
 The Gate of Augustus, which now serves 
 as the entrance to the barracks of the gen- 
 darmerie, is worthy of inspection. It consists 
 of four arches — two of equal size, for the 
 admittance of chariots and horsemen, and 
 two less ones for pedestrians. The centres 
 of the two larger arches are decorated by the 
 
NISMES. 17 
 
 head of a bull, in alto-relievo ; and above each 
 of the smaller arches is a niche, evidently 
 meant for the reception of a statue. 
 
 A Corinthian pilaster divides the larger 
 arches from the less, and a similar one 
 terminates the building on each side; while 
 the two larger arches are separated by a small 
 Ionic column, which rests on a projecting 
 abutment whence the arches spring. The 
 Gate of France has but one arch, and is said 
 to have been flanked by towers ; of which, 
 however, it has little vestige. 
 
 The inhabitants of Nismes seem very 
 proud of its antiquities, and even the humbler 
 classes descant with much erudition on the 
 subject. Most, if not all of them, have 
 studied the guide-books, and like to display 
 the extent of their savoir on the subject. 
 
 They evince not a little jealousy if any 
 preference seems accorded to the antiquities 
 of Italy over those of their towTi ; and ask, 
 
18 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 with an air of triumph, whether any thing 
 in Italv can be compared with their Maison 
 Carree, expressing their wonder that so few 
 English come to look at it. 
 
 La Tour-Magne stands on the highest of the 
 hills, at the base of which is spread the town. 
 It is precisely in the state most agreeable to 
 antiquaries, as its extreme dilapidation per- 
 mits them to indulge those various conjectures 
 and hypotheses relative to its original des- 
 tination, in which they delight. They see in 
 their ** mind's eye " all these interesting 
 works of antiquity, not as they really are, 
 but as it pleases them to imagine they once 
 were; and, consequently, the less that actually 
 remains on which to base their suppositions, 
 the wider field have they for their favourite 
 speculations. 
 
 This tower is said by some to have been 
 intended for a lighthouse ; others assert it 
 to have been a treasury ; a third party de- 
 
NISMES. 19 
 
 clares it to be the remains of a palace ; and, 
 last of all, it is assumed to have been a 
 mausoleum. 
 
 Its form, judging from what remains, must 
 have been pyramidical, composed of several 
 stages, forming octagons, retreating one above 
 the other. It suffered much from Charles 
 Martel in 7^7) who wished to destroy it, 
 owing to its offering a strong military position 
 to the Saracens ; and still more from the 
 ravaaes of a certain Francis Trancat, to w^hom 
 Henry IV. granted permission to make ex- 
 cavations in the interior of it, on condition 
 that three parts of the product should be 
 given up to the royal coffer. 
 
 The result did not repay the trouble or 
 expense ; and one cannot help being rejoiced 
 that it did not, as probably, had it been 
 otherwise, the success would have served as 
 an incentive to destroy other buildings. 
 
 In the vicinity of the Tour-Magne are the 
 fountain, terrace, and garden, the last of which 
 
20 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 is well planted, and forms a very agreeable 
 promenade for the inhabitants of Nismes. 
 The fountain occupies the site of the ancient 
 baths — many vestiges of which having been 
 discovered have been employed for this useful, 
 but not tasteful, work. 
 
 It was not until the middle of the eighteenth 
 century, that it was suspected that the water 
 which served to turn a mill in the immediate 
 vicinity had been obstructed by the ruins 
 which impeded its course. This obstruction 
 led to excavations, the result of which was 
 the discovery of the remains of buildings, 
 columns, statues, inscriptions, and fragments 
 of rare marbles. 
 
 The obstructions being thus removed, and 
 the town enriched by the precious objects 
 found, the persons to whom the direction 
 of the excavation was confided, instead of 
 vigorously pursuing the task, were content 
 with what they had already discovered, and 
 once more closed up the grave in which so 
 
NISMES. ^1 
 
 many treasures of antiquity were still in- 
 terred — using many of the materials disin- 
 terred for the formation of the terraces which 
 now cover it. 
 
 The architect selected to execute this work 
 was Philip iVIarcehal, an engineer, never pre- 
 viouslv employed, except in military archi- 
 tecture : a fact to which may be attributed 
 the peculiar style that he has exhibited — 
 bastions and trenches being adopted, instead 
 of the usual and more appropriate forms 
 generally used for terraces and canals. 
 
 To these are subjoined ornaments of the 
 period in which the work was completed — 
 the fitness of which is not more to be com- 
 mended than that of the work itself: the 
 whole offerino^ a curious mixture of militarv 
 and rococo taste. 
 
 It was in the freshness of early morning 
 that I, yesterday, again visited the garden of 
 the fountain and its fine chestnut trees and 
 laurel roses ; the latter, growing in gTcat 
 
22 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 luxuriance, looked beautiful, the sun having 
 not yet scorched them. The fountain, too, 
 in its natural bed, which is not less than 
 seventy -two French feet in diameter, and 
 twenty feet in depth, was pellucid as crys- 
 tal, and through it the long leaves that 
 nearly cover the gravel appeared green as 
 emerald. 
 
 The hill above the fountain has been taste- 
 fully planted with evergreen trees, which shade 
 a delicious walk, formed to its summit. 
 
 This improvement to the appearance, as 
 well as to the agremens, of Nismes, is due to 
 Monsieur d'Haussey,* prefect, whose popu- 
 larity is said to be deservedly acquired, 
 by his unremitting attention to the inter- 
 ests of the city, and his urbanity to its in- 
 habitants. 
 
 Nismes is a gay town, if I may judge by 
 the groups of well-dressed women and men 
 we have observed at the promenade. It has 
 * Now Baron d'Haussey. 
 
NISMES. 23 
 
 a considerable garrison, and the officers are 
 occasionally seen passing and repassing ; but 
 not, as I have often remarked in England, 
 lazily lounging about as if anxious to kill 
 time, but moving briskly as if on business. 
 
 The various accomplishments acquired by 
 young men in France offer a great resource 
 in country quarters. Drawing, in which most 
 of them have attained a facility, if not excel- 
 lence, enables them to fill albums with clever 
 sketches ; and their love of the fine arts 
 leads them to devote some hours in most days 
 to their cultivation. 
 
 This is surely preferable to loitering in 
 news-rooms, sauntering in the shops of pretty 
 milliners, breaking down the fences of farmers, 
 or riding over young wheat — innocent pas- 
 times, sometimes undertaken by young officers 
 for mere want of some occupation. 
 
 The Temple of Diana is in the vicinity of 
 the fountain, which has given rise to the con- 
 jecture that it originally constituted a portion 
 
24 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the ancient baths. Its shape is rect- 
 angular, and a large opening in the centre 
 forms the entrance. 
 
 Twelve niches, five of which open into the 
 partition of the temple, and two on the right 
 and left of the entrance, are crowned by fron- 
 tons alternately circular and triangular, and 
 are said to have contained statues. This is one 
 of the most picturesque ruins I ever saw. Si- 
 lence and solitude reign around it, and wild 
 fio^-trees enwreath with their luxuriant foliao^e 
 the opening made by Time, and half conceal 
 the wounds inflicted by barbarian hands. 
 
 I could have spent hours in this dese- 
 crated temple, pondering on the brevity of 
 life, as compared with its age. There is 
 something pure and calm in such a spot, that 
 influences the feelings of those who pause in 
 it ; and by reminding them of the inevitable 
 lot of all sublunary things, renders the cares 
 incidental to all who breathe, less acutely felt 
 for the time. 
 
NISMES. 25 
 
 Is not every ruin a history of the fate of 
 generations, which century after century has 
 seen pass away? — generations of mortals like 
 ourselves, who have been moved bv the same 
 passions, and vexed by the same griefs ; like 
 us, who were instinct with life and spirit, yet 
 w^hose very dust has disappeared. Nevertheless, 
 we can yield tb the futile pleasures, or to the 
 petty ills of life, as if their duration was to be 
 of long extent, unmindful that ages hence, 
 others will visit the objects we now behold, 
 and find them little changed, while we shall 
 have in our turn passed away, leaving behind 
 no trace of our existence. 
 
 I never see a beautiful landscape, a noble 
 rain, or a glorious fane, without wishing that 
 I could bequeath to those who will come to 
 visit them when I shall be no more, the tender 
 thoughts that filled my soul when contem- 
 plating them ; and thus, even in death, create a 
 sympathy. 
 
 VOL. I. c 
 
CHAPTER IL 
 
 * 
 
 ARLES. 
 
 We stopped but a short time at Beaucaire, 
 where we saw the large plain on the banks of 
 the Rhone, on which are erected the wooden 
 houses for the annual fair which takes place in 
 July, when the scene is said to present a very 
 striking effect. 
 
 These wooden houses are filled with articles 
 of every description, and are inhabited by the 
 venders who bring their goods to be disposed 
 of to the crowds of buyers who flock here from 
 all parts, ofiering, in the variety of their cos- 
 tumes and habits, a very animated and showy 
 picture. 
 
 The public walk, which edges the grassy 
 
ARLES. 27 
 
 plain allotted to the fair, is bordered by large 
 elm-trees, and the vicinitv to the river insures 
 that freshness always so desirable in summer, 
 and more especially in a climate so warm 
 as this. 
 
 The town of Beaucaire has little worthy of 
 notice, except its H6tel-de-Ville and church, 
 both of w^hich are handsome buildinofs. We 
 crossed the Rhone over the bridge of boats, 
 from which we had a good view, and arrived 
 at Tarascon. 
 
 The chateau called the Castle of Kino- 
 Rene, but which was erected by Louis II., 
 count of Provence, is an object of interest to 
 all who love to ponder on the olden time, 
 when gallant knights and lovely dames assem- 
 bled here for those tournaments in which the 
 good Rene delighted. 
 
 Alas for the change! In those apart- 
 ments in which the generous monarch loved to 
 indulge the effusions of his gentle muse, and 
 where fair ladies smiled, and belted kniohts 
 
28 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 quaffed ruby wine to their healths, now dwell 
 reckless felons and hopeless debtors ; for the 
 chateau is converted into a prison. 
 
 In the Church of St. Martha we saw a 
 relic of the barbarism of the dark ages, in 
 the shape of a grotesque representation of a 
 dragon, called the Tarasque. This image is 
 formed of wood, rudely painted in gaudy 
 colours. 
 
 Twice a-year it is borne through the streets 
 of Tarascon, in commemoration of the de- 
 struction of a fabulous monster that long fre- 
 quented the Rhone, and devoured many of the 
 inhabitants of the surrounding country, but 
 was at length vanquished by St. Martha ; wh o 
 having secured it round the neck by her veil, 
 delivered it to the just vengeance of the Ta- 
 rascons. This legend is received as truth by 
 common people, and our guide informed us 
 that they warmly resent any doubt of its au- 
 thenticity. 
 
 The monument of St. Martha is shewn in 
 
ARLES. 29 
 
 the church dedicated to her, and her memory 
 is held in great reverence at Tarascon. 
 
 The country between this place and Ta- 
 rascon is fertile and well cultivated, and the 
 cheerfulness of its aspect presents a striking 
 contrast to the silence and solitude of the 
 to^^Ti. The streets, however, are as clean as 
 those of Holland, and the inhabitants are neat 
 and tidy in their attire. 
 
 The houses are for the most part old and 
 dilapidated, looking in nearly as ruined a 
 condition as the fragments of antiquity which 
 date so many centuries before them. Neverthe- 
 less, some of the streets and dwellings seem to 
 indicate that a spirit of improvement is abroad. 
 
 Our hotel is a large, crazy, old mansion, 
 reminding me of some of those at Shrewsbury ; 
 and its furniture appears to be coeval with it, 
 as nothing can be more homely or misshapen. 
 Oak and walnut-tree chairs, beds, and tables 
 form the chief part, and these are in a very 
 rickety condition ; nevertheless, an air of 
 
30 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 cleanliness and comfort pervades the rooms, 
 and with the extreme rusticity of the ameuhle- 
 ment, give one the notion of being in some 
 huge old farm-house. 
 
 Nor is the manner of the good hostess cal- 
 culated to dispel this illusion. When our 
 three carriages drove to her door, though 
 prepared for our arrival by the courier, she 
 repeatedly said that her poor house had no 
 accommodation for such guests, and we had 
 some difficulty in persuading her that we were 
 easily satisfied. 
 
 She had donned her fete dress for our re- 
 ception, and presented a very picturesque ap- 
 pearance, as she stood smiling and bustling 
 about at the door. She wore a high cap re- 
 mindintjf me of those of the women in Nor- 
 mandy: brown stays; linsey-woolsey, volumi- 
 nous petticoats ; handkerchief and apron trim- 
 med with rich old-fashioned lace ; and long 
 gold ear-rings and chain of the same material, 
 twisted at least ten times round her neck. 
 
ARLES. 31 
 
 She explained to us, in a patois not easily 
 understood, that her house was only frequented 
 by the farmers, and their wives and daughters, 
 who attended the fetes, or occasionally by a 
 stray traveller who came to explore the an- 
 tiquities. 
 
 Before I had travelled much on the Conti. 
 nent, I confess that the appearance of this 
 dwellino' would have rather startled me as a 
 sa/'our for two days, but now I can relish its 
 rusticitv ; for cleanliness, that most indispensa- 
 ble of all requisites to comfort, is not wanting. 
 
 The furniture is scrubbed into brightness, 
 the small diamond - shaped panes of the old- 
 fashioned casements are clean as hands can 
 make them ; the large antique fireplace is filled 
 with fresh flowers;- and the walnut-tree tables 
 are covered with white napkins. 
 
 No sooner had we performed our ablutions, 
 and changed our travelling dresses for others, 
 than our good hostess, aided by three active 
 young country maidens, served up a plentiful 
 
32 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 dinner, consisting of an excellent ]wt au feu, 
 followed by fish, fowl, and flesh, sufficient to 
 satisfy the hunger of at least four times the 
 number of our party. 
 
 Having covered the table until it literally 
 "groaned with the weight of the feast," she 
 seated herself at a little distance from it, and 
 issued her commands to her handmaidens 
 . what to serve, and when to change a plate, 
 what wine to offer, and which dish she most 
 recommended, with a good-humoured attention 
 to our wants, that really anticipated them. 
 
 There was something as novel as patriarchal 
 in her mode of doing the honours, and it 
 pleased us so much that we invited her to 
 partake of our repast; but she could not be 
 prevailed on, though she consented to drink 
 our healths in a glass of her best wine. 
 
 She repeatedly expressed her fears that our 
 dinner was not sufficiently recherche, and hoped 
 we would allow her to prepare a good supper. 
 
 When we were descending the stairs, she 
 
ARLES. S3 
 
 met us with several of her female neighbours 
 en grande toilette, whom she had invited to 
 see the strangers, and who gazed at us with 
 as much surprise as if we were natives of 
 Otaheite, beheld for the first time. Cordial 
 greetings, however, atoned for the somewhat 
 too earnest examination to which we had been 
 subjected; and many civil speeches from our 
 good hostess, who seemed not a little proud 
 of displaying her foreign guests, rewarded the 
 patience with which we submitted to the in- 
 spection. 
 
 One old lady felt the quality of our robes, 
 another admired our trinkets, and a third was 
 in raptures with our veils. In short, as a 
 Frenchwoman would say, we had un grand 
 succes; and so, our hostess assured us. 
 
 We went over the Amphitheatre, the dimen- 
 sions of which exceed those of the Amphitheatre 
 at Nismes. Three orders of architecture are 
 also introduced in it, and it has no less than 
 sixty arcades, with four large doors; that on 
 
 c 2 
 
34 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the north side has a very imposmg effect. The 
 corridor leading to the arena exhibits all the 
 grandeur peculiar to the public buildings of 
 the Romans, and is well worthy of attention ; 
 but the portion of the edifice that most inter- 
 ested me was the subterranean, which a num- 
 ber of workmen were busily employed in 
 excavating, under the superintendence of the 
 Prefect of Aries, a gentleman with whose know- 
 ledge of the antiquities of his native town, 
 and urbanity towards the strangers who visit 
 them, we have every reason to be satisfied. 
 
 Under his guidance, we explored a consi- 
 derable extent of the recently excavated sub- 
 terranean, a task which requires no slight 
 devotion to antiquities to induce the visitor 
 to persevere, the inequalities of the ground 
 exposing one continually to the danger of a 
 fall, or to the still more perilous chance — as 
 occurred to one of our party — of the head 
 coming in contact with the roof. 
 
 We saw also fragments of a theatre in the 
 
ARLES. 35 
 
 garden of the convent of La ]\Iisericorde, 
 eonsistino' of two larofe marble columns and 
 two arches. 
 
 In the ancient church of St. Anne, now 
 converted into a museum, are collected all 
 the fragments of antiquity discovered at Aries, 
 and in its vicinitv ; some of them hiorhlv inter- 
 esting, and bearing evidences of the former 
 splendour of the place. 
 
 An altar dedicated to the Goddess of Good ; 
 the celebrated Mithras with a serpent coiled 
 round him, between the folds of which are 
 sculptured the signs of the zodiac ; Medea 
 and her children; a mile-stone, bearing the 
 names of the Emperors Theodosius and Valen- 
 tinian; a basso-relievo of the Muses; several 
 sarcophagi, votive altars, cornices, pillars, 
 mutilated statues, and inscriptions, are here 
 carefully preserved : but nothing in the col- 
 lection equals the statue known by the title 
 of the Venus of Aries, found here, and which 
 is so deservedlv admired at the Lou^tc. 
 
36 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 An obelisk of granite, about sixty feet high, 
 said to be the only antique one in France, 
 stands on the place of the H6tel-de-Ville. 
 Discovered in 1389, it was not disinterred 
 from the earth in which it was embedded 
 until the reign of Charles IX., and was erected 
 on its present site in I676, with a dedication 
 to the then reigning sovereign, Louis XIV. 
 A globe, ornamented with Jleurs de lis placed 
 on its point, deteriorates, in my opinion, from 
 the beauty of its effect. It was originally in 
 one block, but it was broken in two by its 
 
 overturn. 
 
 Many houses in the streets have portions of 
 columns, friezes, and cornices embedded in 
 their walls; and one of them, occupied by a 
 barber, had a column in front, to which 
 the insignia of his profession were attached. 
 Ruins, said to be those of the palace of 
 Constantine, were pointed out to us, as well 
 as fragments of a forum and baths. 
 
 Aries is certainly one of the most interest- 
 
ARLES. ' 37 
 
 ing towns I have ever seen, whether viewed 
 as a place remarkable for the objects of an- 
 tiquity it contains, or for the primitive man- 
 ners of its inhabitants and its picturesque 
 appearance. 
 
 The quays are spacious and well built, 
 presenting a very different aspect to the streets ; 
 for the former are very populous, being fre- 
 quented by the boatmen who ply their busy 
 commerce between Lyons and Marseilles — 
 depots for the merchandise being erected 
 along them, while the latter are compara- 
 tivelv deserted. 
 
 With this facility of communication with 
 two such flourishing townas, it is extraordinary 
 that Aries should have so long retained the 
 primitive simplicity that seems to pervade it, 
 and that a good hotel has not yet been esta- 
 blished here. 
 
 Our good hostess provided nearly as sub- 
 stantial a supper for us last night as the early 
 dinner served up on our arrival, and again 
 
38 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 presided at the repast, pressing us to eat, and 
 recommending, with genuine kindness, the 
 various specimens of dainties set before us. 
 Our beds, though homely, were clean ; and I 
 have seldom, in the most luxurious ones, re- 
 posed equally soundly. 
 
 When our courier asked for the bill this 
 morning, the landlady declared she " knew 
 not what to charge, that she never was in 
 the habit of making out bills, and that we 
 must give her what we thought right." 
 
 The courier urged the necessity of having 
 a regular bill, explaining to her that he was 
 obliged to file all bills, and produce them every 
 week for the arrangement of his accounts, — 
 but in vain : she could not, she declared, 
 make one out ; and no one in her house was 
 more expert than herself. 
 
 She came to us, laughing and protesting, 
 and ended by saying, " Pay what you like ; 
 things are very cheap at Aries. You have 
 eaten very little ; really, it is not worth 
 
ARLES. 39 
 
 charging for." But, when we persisted on 
 having her at least name a sum, to our in- 
 finite surprise she asked, if a couple of louis 
 would be too much? — And this for a party 
 of six, and six servants, for two days ! 
 
 We had some difficulty in inducing her to 
 accept a suitable indemnification, and parted, 
 leaving her proclaiming what she was pleased 
 to consider our excessive generosity, and re- 
 iterating her good wishes. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ST. REMY. 
 
 The town of St. Remy is delightfully situ- 
 ated in a hollow that resembles the crater of 
 an extinct volcano, and is surrounded by luxu- 
 riant groves .of olive. The streets, though 
 generally narrow, are rendered picturesque by 
 several old houses, the architecture of which 
 is striking; and the place — for even St. Remy 
 has its Place Publique and H6tel-de-Ville — is 
 not without pretensions to ornament. In the 
 centre of this place is a pretty fountain, of a 
 pyramidal form. 
 
 The antiquities which attracted us to St. 
 Remy are M a short distance from the town, 
 on an eminence to the south of it, and are 
 approached by a road worthy the objects to 
 
ST. RlfeMY. 41 
 
 which it conducts. They consist of a tri- 
 umphal arch, and a mausoleum, about forty- 
 five feet asunder. 
 
 Of the triumphal arch, all above the archi- 
 vault has disappeared, leaving but the portico, 
 the proportions of which are neither lofty 
 nor wide. On each side of it are two fluted 
 columns, said to have been of the Corinthian 
 order, but without capitals, and the inter- 
 columniations, in each of which are figures of 
 male and female captives. 
 
 A tree divides the male from the female ; 
 their hands are tied, and chained to the tree ; 
 and a graceful drapery falls from above the 
 heads do^^-n to the consoles on which the 
 fiofures stand. 
 
 On the eastern side of the arch are also 
 figures, representing two women, by the side 
 of two men. One of the women has her 
 hand on the arm of a chained warrior, and 
 the other has at her feet military trophies ; 
 among which bucklers, arms, and trumpets, 
 
42 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 may be seen. The pilasters that bound the 
 intercolumniations are of the Doric order, 
 and their capitals support the arch. 
 
 The cornice and astragals form a frieze, 
 in which military emblems and symbols of 
 sacrifice are intermingled. The archivault is 
 ornamented on each side with sculptured 
 wreaths of ivy, pine cones, branches of grapes 
 and olives, interlaced with ribands. The 
 ceiling of the portico is divided into hexagons 
 and squares, enriched by various designs in 
 the shape of eggs and roses, finely executed. 
 
 This interesting monument appears to have 
 been ornamented with equal care and rich- 
 ness on every side, but its decorations have 
 not enabled any of the numerous antiquaries 
 who have hitherto examined it to throw any 
 light on its origin; and the destruction of its 
 architecture must have caused that of its 
 inscription, if, indeed, it ever bore one. 
 
 The mausoleum is even more curious 
 than the arch, as being the only building 
 
ST, REMY. 43 
 
 of a similar character of architecture to be 
 seen. 
 
 Placed on a large square pediment, ap- 
 proached by two steps^ the edifice rises with 
 unequalled lightness and beauty against the 
 blue sky, forming two stages supported by 
 columns and pilasters, united by a finely 
 sculptured frieze. The first stage retreats 
 from the pediment ; and the second, which 
 is of a round form, and terminated by a 
 conical -shaped top, is less in advance than 
 the first, giving a pyramidal effect. 
 
 The four fronts of the pediment are nearly 
 covered by bassi-relievi, representing battles 
 of infantry ; the figures of which are nearly 
 as larof-e as life, and admirablv designed. 
 
 On the north front is a combat of cavalry ; 
 on the west, an engagement, in the midst of 
 which the body of a man is lying on the 
 ground, one party of soldiers endeavouring 
 to take possession of it, while another band 
 of soldiers are trying to prevent them. 
 
44 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The basso-relievo of the south front repre- 
 sents a field of battle, strewed with the dead 
 and wounded, and mingled with warriors on 
 horseback and on foot. On one side is seen 
 a wild boar between the legs of the soldiers ; 
 and on the other, a female figure, quite nude, 
 prostrate on the earth before a rearing horse, 
 which some soldiers are endeavouring to 
 restrain. 
 
 In the centre of the basso-relievo is an old 
 man expiring, surrounded by several persons ; 
 and at one end a soldier, bearing arms on his 
 shoulder, has been left unfinished by the 
 sculptor ; there not being sufiicient space for 
 the figure, which is partly designed on the 
 adjoining pilaster. 
 
 On the east front is a winged female bearing 
 the attributes of Victory, with several women 
 and warriors, and an allegorical personage 
 said to represent a river, because it holds in 
 one hand a symbol of water. This last figure, 
 also, is partly sculptured on the contiguous 
 
ST. REMY. 45 
 
 pilaster, as is the one previously noted, which 
 proves that these ornaments were not executed 
 at the time of the erection of the edifice. 
 
 The pediment has a simple cornice around 
 it, and the angles are finished by voluted pilas- 
 ters without a base, but with Ionic capitals, 
 which have an extraordinary effect. Above 
 the basso-relievo is a massive garland, sup- 
 ported by three boys, at equal distances ; and 
 between them are four heads of old men, as 
 hideously grotesque as the imaginations of the 
 sculptors could render them. 
 
 The first stage of the mausoleum which 
 rises from this pedestal is pierced by an arch 
 on each side, in the form of a portico, and 
 their archivaults are ornamented by foliage 
 and scrolls. 
 
 The arches rest on plain pilasters, with 
 capitals more resembling the Doric than any 
 other order of architecture. On the kev- 
 stone of each arch is the mark of a youthful 
 male head, surmounted by two wings. The 
 
46 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 four angles of the first stage are finished by a 
 fluted column, with a capital charmingly exe- 
 cuted, like, but not quite, the Corinthian. These 
 columns sustain an entablature or two, which 
 terminate this stage, and its frieze is enriched 
 with sculpture representing winged sea-mon- 
 sters and sirens with sacrificial instruments. 
 
 Above the first stage rises the second, 
 which is of a round form, with ten fluted 
 columns, which support its circular entabla- 
 ture ; the capitals of these columns are similar 
 to those of the first stage, and the frieze is 
 ornamented with foliage delicately sculptured. 
 
 A round cupola terminates this building, 
 through which the light shines in on every side, 
 although two male statues in togas occupy the 
 centre of it. . ^ 
 
 To view the height at which these figures 
 are placed, one would suppose they were safe 
 from the attacks of the mischievous or the 
 curious ; nevertheless, they did not escape, 
 for, many years as^o, during the night, their 
 
ST. REMY. 47 
 
 heads were taken off, and those that replaced 
 them reflect little credit on the taste or skill of 
 the modem sculptor who executed the task. 
 
 On the architrave of the entablature of the 
 first stage, and on the north front, is the fol- 
 lowing inscription : — 
 
 SEX. L. M. JVLIEI. C. F. PARENTIBVS * SVEIS. 
 
 Various are the opinions given bv the 
 writers who have noticed this monument as 
 to the cause for which, and person, or persons 
 for whom, it was erected. Some maintain that 
 the triumphal arch from its vicinitv has a 
 relation to the mausoleum, while others assert 
 them to have been built at different epochs. 
 
 The inscription has only served to base the 
 different hypotheses of antiquaries, amono- 
 which that of the Abbe Barthelemy is con- 
 sidered the most probable; namely, that in the 
 three first words are found two initials, which 
 he considers may be rendered as follows : 
 
 SEXTVS • LUCIVS * MARCVS ; 
 
48 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and the two other initials, c. f., which follow 
 the word jvliei, may be explained in the 
 same manner to signify Caii Filii, and, being 
 joined to Juliei, which precedes, may be re- 
 ceived to mean Julii Caii Filii. 
 
 Mantour's reading of the inscription is, 
 Caius SExtius Lucius, Maritus Juli^e In- 
 comparabilis, Curavit Fieri Parentibus suis ; 
 which he translates into Caius Sextius Lu- 
 cius, Husband of Julia, caused this Monument 
 to be erected to the Memory of his Ancestors, 
 and the victories achieved by them in Pro- 
 vence, which on different occasions had been 
 the theatre of war of the Romans. 
 
 Bouche's version of it is, — 
 
 r Lucius, -^ 
 Sextus I Laelius, J> Maritus Juliae. 
 L Tvibftrius. J 
 
 Liberius, 
 
 1 
 
 Istud Cenotaphium, 
 
 or, \' Fecit Parentibus Suis : 
 
 Intra Circulum, J 
 
 which he asserts to mean, — Sextus, in honour 
 of his Father and Mother, buried in this place, 
 
ST. REMY. 49 
 
 and represented by the two statues surrounded 
 by columns in the upper part of the mau- 
 soleum. 
 
 Monsieur P. Malosse, to whose work on the 
 antiquities of St. Remy I am indebted for the 
 superficial knowledge I have attained of these 
 interesting objects, explains the inscription to 
 mean, — 
 
 SEXTVS • LVCIVS * MARCVS * JVLIEI * CVRAV * 
 ERUNT • FIERI * SVEIS ; 
 
 which he translates into Sextus, Lucius, Marcus 
 (all three), of the race of Julius, elevated this 
 monument to the glory of their relations. 
 
 M. Malosse believes that the mausoleum 
 was erected to Julius, and the arch to Au- 
 gustus Csesar — the first being dead, and the 
 second then living; and that the statues in 
 the former, in the Roman togas, were in- 
 tended to represent the wo. 
 
 He imagines that the subjects of the bassi- 
 relievi on the four fi'onts of the mausoleum 
 
 VOL. I. D 
 
50 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 bear out this hypothesis. That of the east, 
 he says, represents the combat of the Romans 
 with the Germans on the bank of the Rhine, 
 (of which river the one on the basso-relievo is 
 the emblem), and the triumph of Caesar over 
 Ariovistus, whose women were taken prisoners. 
 The basso-relievo on the south front repre- 
 sents Caesar's conquest of the AUobroges, 
 and the capture of the daughter of Orgetorix, 
 one of the most powerful men of the country, 
 and instigator of the war. The basso-relievo 
 on the north front, representing a combat of 
 cavalry, refers to the victory over the Britons ; 
 and that of the west front, to the battle gained 
 by the Romans over the Gauls, in which the 
 general of the latter was killed in the midst 
 of his soldiers, who endeavoured to prevent 
 his beinof seized bv the enemv. 
 
 Passages from the Commentaries of CcBsar 
 favour this ingenious interpretation of M. P. 
 Malosse ; but the abbreviations adopted in the 
 inscription, while well calculated to give rise 
 
ST. REMY. 51 
 
 to innumerable hypotheses, will for ever leave 
 in doubt, by whom, and in honour of whom, 
 these edifices were erected, as well as the 
 epoch at which they were built. 
 
 Who could look on these monuments with- 
 out reflecting on the vanity of mortals in thus 
 offering up testimonials of their respect for 
 persons of whose very names posterity is 
 ignorant ? For the identity of those in whose 
 honour the Arch of Triumph and Mausoleum 
 of St. Remy were raised puzzles antiquaries 
 as much as does that of the individual for 
 whom the pyramid of Egypt was built. Vain 
 effort, originating in the weakness of our 
 nature, to preserve the memory of that which 
 was dear to us, and which we would fain 
 believe will insure the reverence of ao-es 
 unborn for that which we venerated! 
 
52 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ON THE TRIUMPHAL ARCH AND MAUSO- 
 LEUM AT ST. REMY. 
 
 L 
 
 Yon stately tomb that seeks the sky, 
 
 Erected to the glorious dead, 
 Through whose high arches sweeps the sigh 
 
 The night winds heave when day has fled ; 
 
 2. 
 
 How fair its pillared stories rise 
 
 'Gainst yon blue firmament so pure ; 
 
 Fair as they met admiring eyes, 
 Long ages past, they still endure. 
 
 3. 
 
 Yes, many a race hath left the earth 
 
 Since first this Mausoleum rose ; 
 So many, that the name, or birth. 
 
 Of dead, or founder, no one knows. 
 
 4. 
 The sculptured pictures, all may see, 
 
 Were by a skilful artist wrought ; 
 But, Time ! the secret rests with thee, 
 
 Which to unravel men have sought. '^ 
 
ST. REMY. 53 
 
 5. 
 
 Of whom were they, the honoured dead, 
 Whose mem'ry Love would here record ? 
 
 Lift up the veil, so long o'erspread, 
 
 And tell w^hose dust you fane doth guard. 
 
 6. 
 
 Name those whose love outlived the grave 
 And sought to give for aye to fame 
 
 Mementos of the good and brave. 
 
 Of whom thou hast effaced the name. 
 
 7. 
 
 We knovv^ but that they lived and died, — 
 No more this stately tomb can tell : 
 
 Here come and read a lesson, Pride, 
 This monument can give so well. 
 
 8. 
 
 They lived — they hoped — they suffered — loved 
 
 As all of Earth have ever done ; 
 Were oft by wild Ambition moved, 
 
 And basked, perchance, 'neath glory's Sun. 
 
54 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 9. 
 
 They deemed that they should leave behind 
 Undying names. Yet, mark this fane, 
 
 For whom it rose, by whom designed, 
 Learned antiquaries search in vain. 
 
 10. 
 
 Still doth it wear the form it wore 
 
 Through the dim lapse of by-gone age ; 
 
 Triumph of Art in days of yore, 
 
 Whose Hist'ry fills the classic page. 
 
 11. 
 
 To honour Victors it is said 
 
 'T was raised, though none their names can trace ; 
 It stands as monument instead, 
 
 Unto each long-forgotten race, 
 
 12. 
 
 Who came, like me, to gaze and brood 
 
 Upon it in this lonely spot — 
 Their minds with pensive thoughts imbued, 
 
 That Heroes could be thus forgot. 
 
ST. RflMY. 55 
 
 13. 
 
 Yet still the wind a requiem sighs, 
 And the blue sky above it weeps ; 
 
 The Sun pours down its radiant dyes, 
 
 Though none can tell who 'neath it sleeps. 
 
 14. 
 
 And seasons roll, and centuries pass. 
 
 And still unchanged thou keep'st thy place ; 
 
 While we, like shadows in a glass, 
 Soon glide away, and leave no trace. 
 
 15. 
 
 And yon proud Arch, the Victor's meed, 
 Is nameless as the neighbouring Tomb : 
 
 Victor, and Dead, the Fates decreed 
 Your memory to oblivion's gloom. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LYONS. 
 
 I SEE little alteration at Lyons since I for- 
 merly passed through it. Its manufactories 
 are, nevertheless, flourishing, though less im- 
 provement than could be expected is visible 
 in the external aspect of the place. 
 
 This being Sunday, and the Fete de Dieu, 
 the garrison, with flags flying, drums beating, 
 trumpets sounding, and all in gala dress, 
 marched through the streets to attend Divine 
 worship. The train was headed by our old 
 acquaintance General Le Paultre de la Motte, 
 (whom we left at Lyons on our route to 
 Italy), and his staff"; wearing all their mili- 
 tary decorations, attended by a vast procession, 
 
LYONS. 57 
 
 including the whole of the clergy in their 
 rich attires and all the diiferent religious 
 communities in the town. 
 
 The officers were bare - headed — their 
 spurred heels and warlike demeanour ren- 
 dering this homage to a sacred ceremony 
 more picturesque. The gold and silver 
 brocaded vestments and sno\\y robes of the 
 priests glittering in the sun, as they marched 
 along to the sound of martial music, looked 
 very gorgeous ; and this mixture of eccle- 
 siastical and military pomp had an imposing 
 ejffect. 
 
 The streets through which the procession 
 passed were ornamented with rich draperies 
 and flowers, reminding me of Italy on similar 
 occasions ; and the intense heat of a sun 
 glowing like a fiery furnace, aided the recol- 
 lection. 
 
 Since I have been on the continent, it has 
 often struck me with surprise, that on solemn 
 
 d2 
 
58 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 occasions like the present, sacred music lias 
 not been performed instead of military. Nay, 
 I have heard quadrilles and waltzes played, 
 fruitful in festive associations little suited to 
 the feelings which ought to have been excited 
 by solemn ceremonials. 
 
 Knowing, by experience, the effect pro- 
 duced on the mind by sacred music, it is 
 much to be wished that so potent an aid to 
 devotional sentiment should not be omitted, 
 malgre whatever may be said against any 
 extraneous assistance in offering up those 
 devotions which the heart should be ever 
 prompt to fulfil without them. 
 
 I leave to casuists to argue whether, or how 
 far, music, sculpture, or painting, may be 
 employed as excitements to religious fervour ; 
 but I confess, although the acknowledgment 
 may expose me to the censure of those who 
 differ with me in opinion, that I consider 
 them powerful adjuncts, and, consequently. 
 
LYONS. 59 
 
 not to be resigned because some — and happy, 
 indeed, may they be deemed — stand in no 
 need of such incitements to devotion. 
 
 Who that has heard the " Miser Sre^' in 
 the Sistine chapel at Rome, and seen, while 
 listening to it, " The Last Judgment," by 
 Michael Angelo, on its walls, without feeling 
 the powerful influence they exercised on the 
 feelings ? 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 Junei 1828.— -A fatiguing journey, over 
 dusty roads, and in intensely hot weather, 
 has brought us to Paris, with no accident 
 save the failure of one of the wheels of our 
 large landau — a circumstance that caused the 
 last day's travelling to be any thing but agree- 
 able ; for though our courier declared the 
 temporary repair 'it received rendered it per- 
 fectly safe, I was by no means satisfied on the 
 point. 
 
 We have taken up our abode in the Hotel 
 de Terrasse, Rue de Rivoli, are well-lodged, but 
 somewhat incommoded by the loud reverbera- 
 tion of the pavement, as the various vehicles 
 
PARIS. 61 
 
 roll rapidly over it. AVe were told that ''it 
 would be nothing when we got used to it"^r» 
 an assertion, the truth of which, I trust, we 
 shall not remain sufficiently long to test ; for 
 I have a peculiar objection to noise of every 
 kind, and a long residence in Italy has not 
 conquered it. 
 
 So here we are, once more, at Paris, after 
 six years' absence from it ; and I find all that 
 has hitherto met my eyes in it in statu quo. 
 How many places have I seen during that 
 period ; how many associations formed ; how 
 many and what various impressions received ; 
 and Tiere is every thmg around looking so 
 precisely as I left them, that I can hardly 
 bring myself to believe that I have indeed 
 been so many years absent! 
 
 When we bring back with us the objects 
 most dear, and find those we left unchanged, 
 we are tempted to doubt the lapse of time ; 
 but one link in the chain of afi'ection broken, 
 and every thing seems altered. 
 
62 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 On entering Paris, I felt my impatience 
 to see our dear friends there redouble ; and, 
 before we had despatched the dinner awaiting 
 our arrival, the Due and Duchesse de Guiche 
 came to us. How warm was our greeting ; 
 how many questions to be asked and an- 
 swered ; how many congratulations and plea- 
 sant plans for the future to be formed ; how 
 many reminiscences of our mutual sejour in 
 dear Italy to be talked over ! 
 
 The Duchesse was radiant in health and 
 beauty, and the Due looking, as he always 
 does, more distingue than any one else — 
 the perfect heau ideal of a nobleman. 
 
 We soon quitted the salle a manger ; for 
 who could eat during the joy of a first meet- 
 ing with those so valued ? — Not I, certainly ; 
 and all the rest of our party were as little 
 disposed to do honour to the repast com- 
 manded for us. 
 
 It was a happy evening. Seated in the 
 salon, and looking out on the pleasant gardens 
 
PARIS. 63 
 
 of the Tuilleries, the perfume of whose orange- 
 trees was wafted to us by the air as we talked 
 over old times, and indulged in cheerful anti- 
 cipations of new ones, and the tones of voices 
 familiar to the ears thus again restored, were 
 heard with emotion. 
 
 Yes, the meetino^ of dear friends atones for 
 the regret of separation ; and like it so much 
 enhances affection, that after absence one 
 wonders how one has been able to stay away 
 from them so long. 
 
 Too excited to sleep, although fatigued, I 
 am writing down my impressions ; yet how 
 tame and colourless they seem on paper when 
 compared with the emotions that dictate them ! 
 How often have I experienced the impos- 
 sibility of painting strong feelings during their 
 reion ! 
 
 [^Mem, — We should be cautious in giving 
 implicit credit to descriptions written with 
 great power, as I am persuaded they indicate 
 a too perfect command of the faculties of the 
 
64 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 head to admit the possibility of those of the 
 heart having been much excited when they 
 were written. 
 
 This belief of mine controverts the assertion 
 of the poet — 
 
 " He best can paint them who has felt them most." 
 
 Except that the poet says who has felt ; yes it 
 is after, and not when most felt that sentiments 
 can be most powerfully expressed. But to bed! 
 to bed!] 
 
 I have had a busy day ; engaged during the 
 greater portion of it in the momentous occu- 
 pation of shopping. Every thing belonging to 
 my toilette is to be changed, for I have dis- 
 covered — "tell it not in Gath"— that my 
 hats, bonnets, robes, mantles, and pelisses, are 
 totally passee de mode, and what the modistes 
 of Italy declared to be la dernidre mode de 
 Paris is so old as to be forgotten here. 
 
 The woman who wishes to be a philosopher 
 must avoid Paris ! Yesterday I entered it. 
 
PARIS. 65 
 
 caring or thinking as little of la Mode as if 
 there were no such tyrant ; and lo ! to-dav, I 
 found myself ashamed, as I looked fi'om the 
 Duchesse de Guiche, attired in her becoming 
 and ipretty peign I r a la neige and chapeau de 
 dernier goid^ to my own dress and bonnet, 
 which previously I had considered very wear- 
 able, if not very tasteful. 
 
 Our first ^isit was to Herbault's, the hioh- 
 priest of the Temple of Fashion at Paris ; and 
 I confess, the look of astonishment which he 
 bestowed on my bonnet did not help to re- 
 assure my confidence as to my appearance. 
 
 The Duchesse, too quick-sighted not to ob- 
 serve his surprise, explained that I had been 
 six vears absent from Paris, and only arrived 
 the night before from Italy. I saw the words 
 a la honheur hovering on the lips of Herbault, 
 but he was too well-bred to give utterance to 
 them, and immediately ordered to be brought 
 forth the choicest of his hats, caps, and turbans. 
 
 Oh, the misery of trvino- on a new mode for 
 
66 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the first time, and before a stranger ! The eye 
 accustomed to see the face to which it apper- 
 tains enveloped in a chapeau more or less 
 large or small, is shocked at the first attempt 
 to wear one of a dififerent size ; and turns from 
 the contemplation of the image presented in 
 the .glass with any thing but self-complacency, 
 listening incredulously to the flattering enco- 
 miums of the not disinterested marchand de 
 modes, who avers that ** Ce chapeau sied 
 jmrfaitement a Madame la Comtesse, et ce 
 homiet lui va a raviir^^ 
 
 I must, however, render M. Herbault the 
 justice to say, that he evinced no ordinary 
 tact in suggesting certain alterations in his 
 cliapeaux and caps, in order to suit my face ; 
 and, aided by the inimitable good taste of the 
 Duchesse, who passes for an oracle in affaires 
 de modes a Paris, a selection was made that 
 enabled me to leave M. Herbault's, looking 
 a little more like other people. 
 
 From his Temple of Fashion we proceeded to 
 
PARIS. 67 
 
 the ImgSre a la mode, Mdlle. La Touclie, where 
 canezus and robes de matin were to be chosen 
 and ordered ; and we returned to the Hotel 
 de la Terrasse, my head filled with notions of 
 the importance of dressing a la mode, to which 
 yesterday it was a stranger, and my purse 
 considerably lightened by the two visits I had 
 paid. 
 
 Englishwomen who have not made their 
 purchases at the houses of the marchandes de 
 modes considered the most recherche at Paris, 
 have no idea of the extravagance of the 
 charges. Prices are demanded that really 
 make a prudent person start ; nevertheless, she 
 who wishes to attain the distinction so gene- 
 rally sought, of being perfectly well dressed, 
 which means being in the newest fashion, must 
 submit to pay largely for it. 
 
 Three hundred and twenty francs for a 
 crape hat and feathers, two hundred for a 
 chapeau dfleurs, one hundred for a chapeau 
 neglige de matin, and eighty-five francs for an 
 
68 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 evening-cap composed of tulle trimmed with 
 blonde and flowers, are among the prices asked, 
 and, to my shame be it said, given. 
 
 It is true, hats, caps, and bonnets, may be 
 had for very reasonable prices in the shops in 
 the Rue Vivienne and elsewhere at Paris, as 
 I and many of my female compatriots found out 
 when I was formerly in this gay capital ; but 
 the bare notion of wearing such would posi- 
 tively shock a lady of fashion at Paris, as much 
 as it would an English one, to appear in a hat 
 manufactured in Cranbourn Alley. 
 
 Here Fashion is a despot, and no one dreams 
 of evading its dictates. 
 
 Having noticed the extravagance of the 
 prices, it is but fair to remark the elegance 
 and good taste of the millinery to be found at 
 Monsieur Herbault's. His chapeaux look as 
 if made by fairy fingers, so fresh, so light, 
 do they appear ; and his caps seem as if the 
 gentlest sigh of a summer's zephyr would bear 
 them from sight, so aerial is their texture, 
 
PARIS. 69 
 
 and so delicate are the flowers that adorn them, 
 fresh from the ateliers of Natier, or Baton. 
 
 Beware, O ye uxorious hushands ! how ye 
 hring your youthful brides to the dangerous 
 atmosphere of Paris, while yet in that para- 
 dise of fools ycleped the honey-moon, ere you 
 have learned to curve vour brows into a fro^^Ti, 
 or to lenofthen vour visao-es at the sio^ht of 
 a long bill. 
 
 In that joyful season, when having pleased 
 your eyes and secured your hearts, your fair 
 brides, with that amiabilitv which is one of the 
 peculiar characteristics of their sex, are anx- 
 ious to please all the world, and from no 
 other motive than that your choice should 
 be admired, beware of entering Paris, except 
 en passant Wait until you have recovered 
 that firmness of character which generally 
 comes back to a Benedict after the first year 
 of his nuptials, before you let your wives 
 wander through the tempting mazes of the 
 magasin de modes of this intoxicating city. 
 
70 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 And you, fair dames, "with stinted sums 
 assigned," in the shape of pin-money, heware 
 how you indulge that taste for pretty honnets, 
 hats, caps, and turbans, with which all bounti- 
 ful Nature has so liberally gifted you ; for, 
 alas ! " beneath the roses fierce Repentance 
 rears her snaky crest " in form of a bill, the 
 payment of which will "leave you poor in- 
 deed " for many a long day after, unless your 
 liege lord, melted by the long-drawn sighs 
 heaved when you remark on the wonderfully 
 high prices of things at Paris, opens his purse- 
 strings, and, with something between a pshaw 
 and a grunt, makes you an advance of your 
 next quarter's pin-money ; or, better still, a 
 present of one of the hundred pounds with 
 which he had intended to try his good luck 
 at the club. 
 
 Went yesterday to the Rue d'Anjou, to 
 visit Madame Craufurd. Her hotel is a 
 charming one, entre cour et jar din ; and she 
 is the most extraordinary person of her age 
 
PARIS. 71 
 
 I have ever seen. In her eightieth year, 
 she does not look to be more than fifty-five ; 
 and possesses all the vivacity and good 
 humour peculiar only to youth. 
 
 Scrupulously exact in her person, and 
 dressed vrith. the utmost care, as well as good 
 taste, she gives me a notion of the appear- 
 ance which the celebrated Ninon de TEnclos 
 must have presented at the same age, and has 
 much of the charm of manner said to have 
 belono^ed to that remarkable woman. 
 
 It was an interesting sight to see her sur- 
 rounded by her grand-children and great- 
 grand-children, all remarkable for their good 
 looks, and affectionately attached to her, 
 while she appears not a little proud of them. 
 The children of the Due de Guiche have 
 lost nothing of their beauty since their sejour 
 at Pisa, and are as inoenuous and amusinof 
 as formerly. 
 
 I never saw such handsome children before, 
 nor so well brought up. Xo trouble or ex- 
 
7^ THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 pense is spared in their education ; and the 
 Due and Duchesse devote a great portion 
 of their time to them. 
 
 All our friends are occupied in looking 
 out for a house for us ; and I have this 
 day been over, at least, ten — only one of 
 which seems likely to suit. 
 
 I highly approve the mode at Paris of 
 letting unfurnished houses, or apartments, 
 with mirrors and decorations, as well as all 
 fixtures (with us, in England, always charged 
 separately), free of any extra expense. The 
 good taste evinced in the ornaments is in 
 general remarkable, and far superior to what 
 is to be met with in England ; where, if 
 one engages a new house lately papered or 
 painted, one is compelled to recolour the rooms 
 before they can be occupied, owing to the 
 gaudy and ill - assorted patterns originally 
 selected. 
 
 The house of the Marechal Lobeau, form- 
 ing the corner of the Rue de Bourbon, is the 
 
PARIS. 73 
 
 one I prefer of all those I have yet seen, 
 although it has many desagremens for so 
 larofe an establishment as ours. But I am 
 called to go to the review in the Champ de 
 Mars, so allons for a spectacle militaire, 
 which, I am told, is to he very fine. 
 
 The re\iew was well worth seeing; and 
 the troops performed their evolutions with 
 great precision. The crowd of spectators was 
 immense ; so much so, that those only who 
 formed part of the royal cortege could reach 
 the Champ de Mars in time to see its com- 
 mencement. No carriages, save those of the 
 court, were allowed to enter the file. 
 
 The dust was insupportable ; and the 
 pretty dresses of the ladies suffered from it 
 nearly as much as did the smart uniforms 
 of the officers. 
 
 The coup d^ceil from the pavilion (where 
 we had, thanks to our chaperon, the Du- 
 chesse de Guiche, front seats) was very fine. 
 The various and splendid uniforms, floating 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
74 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 standards, waving plumes, glittering arms, 
 and prancing steeds, gave to the vast plain 
 over which the troops were moving a most 
 animated aspect, while the sounds of martial 
 music exhilarated the spirits. 
 
 Nor was the view presented by the interior 
 of the pavilion without its charms. A num- 
 ber of ladies, some of them young and hand- 
 some, and all remarkably well-dressed, gave 
 to the benches ranged along it the appear- 
 ance of a rich parterre, among the flowers 
 of which the beautiful Duchesse de Guiche 
 shone pre-eminent. 
 
 I was seated next to a lady, with large 
 lustrous eyes and a pale olive complexion, 
 whose countenance, from its extreme mobility, 
 attracted my attention ; at one moment, light- 
 ing up with intelligence, and the next, soften- 
 ing into pensiveness. 
 
 A remarkably handsome young man stood 
 behind her,, holding her shawl, and lavishing 
 on her those attentions peculiar to young 
 
PARIS. 75 
 
 Benedicts. The lady proved to be the Mar- 
 chioness de Louie, sister to the King of 
 Portugal ; and the gentleman turned out to be 
 her husband, for whose beaux yeux she con- 
 tracted what is considered a mesalliance. 
 
 The simplicity of her dress, and unaffected- 
 ness of her manner, invested her \\ith new 
 attractions in my eyes; which increased when 
 I reflected on the elevated position she had 
 resio-ned, to follow the more humble fortunes 
 of her handsome husband. 
 
 How strange, yet how agreeable too, must 
 the change be, fi'om the most formal court, 
 over which Etiquette holds a despotic sway, 
 to the freedom fi'om such disagreeable con- 
 straint permitted to those in private life, 
 and now enjoyed by this Spanish princess ! 
 
 She appears to enjoy this newly acquired 
 liberty with a zest in proportion to her past 
 enthralment, and has proved that the daugh- 
 ter of a Kinsf of Portuoal has a heart, though 
 
76 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the queens of its neighbour, Spain, were in 
 former days not supposed to have legs. 
 
 During the evolutions, a general officer 
 was thrown from his horse ; and a universal 
 agitation among a group of ladies evinced 
 that they were in a panic. Soon the name of 
 the general, Count de Bourmont, was heard 
 pronounced ; and a faint shriek, followed by 
 a half swoon from one of the fair dames, 
 announced her deep interest in the accident. 
 
 Flacons and vinaigrettes were presented 
 to her on every side, all the ladies present 
 seeming to have come prepared for some 
 similar catastrophe ; but in a few minutes a 
 messenger, despatched by the general, assured 
 Madame la Comtesse of his perfect safety ; 
 and tears of joy testified her satisfaction at 
 the news. 
 
 This little episode in the review shewed 
 me the French ladies in a very amiable point 
 of view. Their sensibility and agitation during 
 
PARIS. 77 
 
 the uncertainty as to tlie person thro\\Ti, 
 youclied for the liveliness of their conjugal 
 affection ; and their sympathy for ]Madame 
 la Comtesse de Bourmont when it was ascer- 
 tained that her husband was the sufferer, bore 
 evidence to the kindness of their hearts, as 
 well as to their facility in performing the little 
 ser™es so acceptable in moments like those 
 I had just witnessed. 
 
 Charles X., the Dauphin and Dauphine, 
 and the Duchesse de Berri, were present — 
 the two latter in landaus, attended by their 
 ladies. The king looked well, his grey hair 
 and tall thin fio^ure orivinor him a verv 
 venerable aspect. 
 
 The Dauphine is much changed since I 
 last saw her, and the care and sorrow of 
 her childhood have left their traces on her 
 countenance. I never saw so melancholy a 
 face, and the strength of intellect which cha- 
 racterises it renders it still more so, by indi- 
 cating- that the marks of sorrow so visible 
 
78 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 were not indented on that brow without 
 many an effort from the strong mind to 
 resist the attacks of grief. 
 
 I remember reading years ago of the melan- 
 choly physiognomy of King Charles I., which 
 when seen in his portrait by a Florentine 
 sculptor, to whom it was sent in order that 
 a bust should be made from it, drew forth 
 the observation that the countenance indicated 
 that its owner would come to a violent death. 
 
 I was reminded of this anecdote by the face 
 of the Duchesse d' Angouleme ; for though I do 
 not pretend to a prescience as to her future 
 fate, I cannot help arguing from it that, even 
 should a peaceful reign await her, the fearful 
 trials of her youth have destroyed in her 
 the power of enjoyment; and that on a throne 
 she can never forget the father and mother 
 she saw hurried from it, to meet every insult 
 that malice could invent, or cruelty could de- 
 vise, before a violent death freed them from 
 their sufferings. 
 
PARIS. 79 
 
 Who can look on this heroic woman without 
 astonishment at the power of endurance that 
 has enabled her to live on under such trials ? 
 Martyr is written in legible characters on 
 that brow, and on those lips ; and her attempt 
 to smile made me more sad than the tears 
 of a mourner would have done, because it 
 revealed " a grief too deep for tears." 
 
 Must she not tremble for the future, if not 
 for the present, among a people so versatile 
 as those among whom she is now thrown? 
 And can she look from the T\indows of the 
 palace she has been recalled to inhabit, with- 
 out seeing the spot where the fearful guillotine 
 was reared that made her an orphan? 
 
 The very plaudits that now rend the skies 
 for her uncle must remind her of the shouts 
 that followed her father to the scaffold : no 
 wonder, then, that she grows pale as she 
 hears them; and that the memory of the ter- 
 rible past, wTitten in characters of blood, gives 
 a sombre hue to the present and to the future. 
 
80 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The sight of her, too, must awaken dis- 
 aoreeable recollections in those over whom 
 her husband may be soon called to reign, 
 for the history of the crimes of the Revolution 
 is stamped on her face, whose pallid tint and 
 rigid muscles tell of the horror and affliction 
 imprinted on her youth ; the reminiscence 
 of which cannot be pleasant to them. 
 
 The French not only love their country 
 passionately, but are inordinately proud of it ; 
 hence, aught that reminds them of its sins — 
 and cruelty is one of a deep dye — must be 
 humiliating to them; so that the presence of 
 the Duchesse d'Angouleme cannot be flatter- 
 ing to their amor patrice or amour propre, I 
 thought of all this to-day, as I looked on the 
 face of Madame la Dauphine ; and breathed 
 a hope that the peace of her life's evening 
 may console her for the misfortunes of its 
 morning and its noon. 
 
 The Duchesse de Berri has an animated 
 and peculiarly good-natured expression of coun- 
 
PARIS. 81 
 
 tenance. Her restored o^aietv raakes the French 
 forget why it was long and cruelly over- 
 clouded, and aids the many good qualities 
 which she possesses, in securing the popu- 
 larity she has so generally acquired in the 
 country of her adoption. 
 
 House -hunting again, and still unsuited. 
 Dined yesterday at the Duchesse de Guiche's ; 
 a very pleasant party, increased hy some agree- 
 able people in the evening. Our old acquaint- 
 ance, AVilliam Lock, was among the guests 
 at dinner, and is as good-looking and light- 
 hearted as ever. 
 
 The Marquis I'Esperance de I'Aigle was 
 also present, and is a perfect specimen of the 
 fine gentleman of La Vieille Cour — a race 
 now nearly extinct. Possessing all the gaiety 
 and vivacity of youth, with that attention to 
 the feelings of others peculiar only to maturity 
 and high -breeding, the Count PEsperance de 
 I'Aigle is universally beloved. 
 
 He can talk over old times with the grand- 
 
 E 2 
 
82 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 mother with all the wit that we read of, 
 oftener than we meet with ; give his opi- 
 nion of la dernier mode to the youthful 
 mother, with rare tact and good taste ; dance 
 with the young daughter as actively and 
 gracefully as any gargon des dix-huit ans 
 in Paris ; and gallop through the Bois de 
 Boulogne with the young men who prid^ 
 themselves on their riding, without being 
 ever left behind. I had frequently heard 
 his praises from the Duchesse de Guiche, 
 and found that her description of him was 
 very accurate. 
 
 The house of the Due de Guiche is a 
 picture of English comfort and French ele- 
 gance united ; and that portion of it appro- 
 priated to its fair mistress is fitted up with 
 exquisite taste. Her salons and boudoir 
 are objects of vertii, bijouterie, and vases 
 of old Sevre, enough to excite envy in those 
 who can duly appreciate such treasures, and 
 tempt to the violation of the tenth com- 
 
PARIS. 83 
 
 mandment. Order reigns in the whole ar- 
 rangement of the establishment, which, possess- 
 ing all the luxurious appliances of a mats on 
 montee, has all the scrupulous cleanliness of 
 that of a Quaker. 
 
 Went to the Opera last night, where I 
 saw the debut of the new danseuse Taglioni. 
 Hers is a totally new style of dancing; grace- 
 ful beyond all comparison, wonderful light- 
 ness, an absence of all violent effort, or at 
 least of the appearance of it, and a modesty 
 as new as it is delio^htful to witness in her 
 art. She seems to float and bound like a 
 sylph across the stage, never executing those 
 tours deforce that we know to be difficult 
 and wish were impossible, being always 
 performed at the expense of decorum and 
 grace, and requiring only activity for their 
 achievement. 
 
 She excited the most rapturous applause, 
 and received it with a " decent dignity," very 
 unlike the leering smiles with which, in 
 
84 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 general, a danseuse thinks it necessary to 
 advance to the front of the proscenium, 
 shewing all her teeth, as she lowly courtesies 
 to the audience. 
 
 There is a sentiment in the dancing of this 
 charming votary of Terpsichore that elevates 
 it far heyond the licentious style generally 
 adopted by the ladies of her profession, and 
 which bids fair to accomplish a reformation 
 in it. 
 
 The Due de Cazes, who came in to 
 the Duchesse de Guiche's box, was enthu- 
 siastic in his praises of Mademoiselle Tag- 
 lioni, and said hers was the most poetical 
 style of dancing he had ever seen. Another 
 observed, that it was indeed the poetry of 
 motion. I would describe it as being the 
 epic of dancing. 
 
 The Due de Cazes is a very distinguished 
 looking man, with a fine and intelligent 
 countenance, and very agreeable manners. 
 
 A propos of manners, I am struck with the 
 
PARIS. 85 
 
 ofreat difference between those of Frenchmen 
 and Endishmen, of the same station in life. 
 The latter treat women with a politeness that 
 seems the result of habitual amenity ; the 
 former with a homage that appears to be 
 inspired by the peculiar claims of the sex, 
 particularised in the individual woman, and 
 is consequently more flattering. 
 
 An Enoflishman seldom lavs himself out 
 to act the agreeable to women ; a French- 
 man never omits an opportunity of so doing : 
 hence, the attentions of the latter are less 
 gratifying than those of the former, because a 
 woman, however free from vanity, may suppose 
 that when an Englishman takes the trouble 
 — and it is evidently a trouble, more or less, 
 to all our islanders to enact the agreeable — 
 she has really inspired him with the desire 
 to please. 
 
 In France, a woman may forget that she 
 is neither young nor handsome; for the 
 absence of these claims to attention does not 
 
S6 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 expose her to be neglected by the male 
 sex. In England, the elderly and the ugly 
 *' could a tale unfold " of the naivete with 
 which men evince their sense of the im- 
 portance of youth and beauty, and their ob- 
 livion of the presence of those who have 
 neither. 
 
 France is the paradise for old women, 
 particularly if they are spiiituelle ; but Eng- 
 land is the purgatory. 
 
 The Comtesses de Bellegarde called on me 
 to - day, and two more warm - hearted or 
 enthusiastic persons I never saw. Though 
 no longer young, they possess all the gaiety 
 of youth, without any of its thoughtlessness, 
 and have an earnestness in their kindness 
 that is very pleasant. 
 
 Dined yesterday at Madame Craufurd's — 
 a very pleasant party. Met there the Due 
 de Gramont, Due and Duchesse de Guiche, 
 Colonel and Lady Barbara Craufurd, and 
 Count Valeski. 
 
PARIS. 87 
 
 The Due de Gramont is a fine old man 
 who has seen much of the world, without 
 having heen soured by its trials. Faithful 
 to his sovereign during adversity, he is affec- 
 tionately cherished by the whole of the present 
 royal family, who respect and love him; and 
 his old age is cheered by the unceasing de- 
 votion of his children, the Due and Duchesse 
 de Guiche, who are fondly attached to him. 
 
 He gives up much of his time to the culture 
 of flowers, and is more interested in the 
 success of his dahlias than in those scenes of 
 courtly circles in which he is called to fill 
 so distinguished a part. It pleased me to 
 hear him telling his beautiful daughter-in-law 
 of the perfection of a flower she had procured 
 him with some trouble; and then adding: "^ 
 propos of flowers, how is our sweet Ida, to-day? 
 There is no flower in my garden like her! — 
 Ay, she will soon be two years old." 
 
 There is something soothing to the mind 
 in the contemplation of a man in the evening 
 
88 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of life, whose youth was spent in all the 
 splendour of a court, and whose manhood 
 has been tried by adversity, turning to Nature 
 for her innocent pleasures, when the dis- 
 covery of the futility of all others has been 
 made. This choice vouches for the purity 
 of heart and goodness of him who has 
 adopted it, and disposes me to give ample 
 credit to all the commendation the Duchesse 
 de Guiche used to utter of him in Italy. 
 
 Lady Barbara Craufurd is an excellent spe- 
 cimen of an English woman. Pretty, without 
 vanity or affectation ; gentle, without insi- 
 pidity ; and simple, yet highly polished, in 
 manners. She has, too, a low, '* sweet voice, 
 an excellent thing in woman," and, to me, 
 w^hose ears offer even a more direct road to 
 the heart than do the eyes, is a peculiar 
 attraction. 
 
 Colonel Craufurd seems to be the quintes- 
 sence of good nature and of good sense. Count 
 Valeski is an intelligent young man, greatly 
 
PARIS. 89 
 
 a la mode at Paris, and wholly unspoilt by this 
 distinction. Handsome, well-bred, and agree- 
 able, he is very popular, not only among the 
 fine ladies but fine gentlemen here, and ap- 
 pears worthy of the favour he enjoys. 
 
 Several people of both sexes came in the 
 evening to Madame Craufurd's, and we had 
 some excellent music. Madame C. does the 
 honours of her salon with peculiar grace 
 She has a bright smile and a kind word for 
 every guest, without the slightest appearance 
 of effort. 
 
 Still house-hunting ; continually tempted by 
 elegantly decorated salons, and as continually 
 checked by the want of room and comfort of 
 the rest of the apartments. 
 
 We have been compelled to abandon the 
 project of taking the Marechal Lobeau's house, 
 or at least that portion of it which he wishes 
 to dispose of, for we found it impossible to 
 lodge so large an establishment as ours in it ; 
 and, though we communicated this fact with 
 
90 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 all possible courtesy to the Marechal, we have 
 received a note in answer, written in a dif- 
 ferent style, as he is pleased to think that, 
 having twice inspected his apartments, we 
 ought to have taken them. 
 
 In England, a person of the Marechal's 
 rank who had a house to let would not 
 shew it in propria persona, but would 
 delegate that task, as also the terms and 
 negotiations, to some agent ; thus avoiding 
 all personal interference, and, consequently, 
 any chance of offence : but if people will 
 feel angry without any just cause, it cannot 
 be helped ; and so Monsieur le Marechal 
 must recover his serenity and acquire a tem- 
 per more in analogy with his name ; for, 
 though a brave and distinguished officer, as 
 well as a good man, which he is said to be, 
 he certainly is not Bon comme un mouton, 
 which is his cognomen. 
 
 Paris is now before us, — where to choose is 
 the difficulty. We saw to-day a house in the 
 
PARIS. 91 
 
 Rue St, Honore, entre cour et jardin, a few 
 doors from the English embassy. The said 
 garden is the most tempting part of the affair ; 
 for, though the salons and sleeping-rooms are 
 good, the only entrance, except by a passage 
 derohe for servants, is through the salle a 
 manger, which is a great objection. 
 
 Many of the houses I have seen here have 
 this defect, which the Parisians do not seem 
 to consider one, although the odour of dinner 
 must enter the salons, and that in the even- 
 ing, visitors must find servants occupied in re- 
 moving the dinner apparatus, should they, 
 as generally happens, come for the prima 
 sera, 
 
 French people, however, remain so short a 
 time at table, and dine so much earlier than 
 the English people do, that the employment of 
 their salle a manger as a passage does not 
 annoy them. 
 
 Went to the opera last night, and saw the 
 Muette de PorticL It is admirably got up, 
 
92 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and the costumes and scenery, as well as the 
 tarantulas, transported me back to Naples — 
 dear, joyous Naples — again. Nourit enacted 
 " Massaniello," and his rich and flexible voice 
 gave passion and feeling to the music. Noblet 
 was the " Fenella," and her pantomime and 
 dancing were good ; but Taglioni spoils one for 
 any other dancing. 
 
 The six years that have flown over Noblet 
 since I last saw her have left little trace of 
 their flight, which is to be marvelled at, when 
 one considers the violent and constant exercise 
 that the profession of a danseuse demands. 
 
 When I saw the sylph-like Taglioni float- 
 ing through the dance, I could not refrain 
 from sighing at the thought that grace and 
 elegance like hers should be doomed to know 
 the withering efi*ect of Time ; and that those 
 agile limbs should one day become as stiff" and 
 helpless as those of others. 
 
 An old danseuse is an anomaly. She is 
 like an old rose, rendered more displeasing by 
 
PARIS. 93 
 
 the recollection of former attractions. Then 
 to see the figure bounding in air, habit and 
 effort effecting something like that which the 
 agility peculiar to youth formerly enabled her 
 to execute almost con amorce ; while the hag- 
 gard face, and distorted smile revealing yellow 
 teeth, tell a sad tale of departed youth. Yes, 
 an old danseuse is a melancholy object ; more 
 so, because less cared for than the broken- 
 down racer, or worn-out hunter. 
 
 Went to Tivoli last night, and was amused 
 by the scene of gaiety it presented. How 
 unlike, and how superior to, our Vauxhall! 
 People of all stations, of all ages, and of both 
 sexes, threading the mazy dance with a 
 sprightliness that evinced the pleasure it 
 gave them. 
 
 We paused to look at group after group, 
 all equally enjoying themselves ; and the 
 Duchesse de Guiche, from her perfect know- 
 ledge of Paris, was enabled, by a glance, to 
 name the station in life occupied by each : 
 
94 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 a somewhat difficult task for a stranger, as the 
 remarkably good taste of every class of women 
 in Paris in dress, precludes those striking 
 contrasts between the appearance of a modiste 
 and a marquise, the wife of a houtiquiei' and 
 a duchesse, to be met with in all other 
 countries. 
 
 But it is not in dress alone that a simi- 
 larity exists in the exteriors of Parisian women. 
 The air comme il faut, the perfect freedom 
 from all gaucherie, the ease of demeanour, 
 the mode of walking, and, above all, the 
 decent dignity equally removed from mauvaise 
 lionte and effrontery, appertain nearly alike to 
 all. The class denominated grisettes alone 
 offered an exception, as their demonstrations 
 of gaiety, though free from boisterousness, 
 betrayed stronger symptoms of hilarity than 
 were evinced by women belonging to a more 
 elevated class in society. 
 
 The dancing, too, surprised as well as 
 pleased me j and in this accomplishment the 
 
PARIS. 95 
 
 French still maintain their lono--acknowlednrecl 
 superiority, for among the many groups I did 
 not see a single bad dancer. 
 
 Around one quadrille party a more nume- 
 rous audience was collected than around the 
 others, and the entrecliats of one of the 
 gentlemen were much applauded. Xods and 
 smiles passing between the dancers and the 
 Duchesse de Guiche, revealed to me that 
 they were among the circle of her acquaint- 
 ance ; and, approaching nearer, I recognised 
 in the gentleman whose entrecliats were so 
 much admired, my new acquaintance the 
 Marquis I'Esperance de PAigle, of whose ex- 
 cellence in the mazy dance I now had an 
 opportunity of seeing that Fame had not said 
 too much. 
 
 The ladies who formed the quadrille were 
 la ^larquise de Marmier, the Vicomtesse 
 de Noailles, and Madame Standish ; all ex- 
 cellent dancers, and attired in that most 
 becoming of all styles of dress, the clemi- 
 
96 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 toilette, which is peculiar to France, and 
 admits of the after-dinner promenades or 
 unceremonious visits in which French ladies 
 indulge. A simple robe of organdie, with long 
 sleeves, a canezou of net, a light scarf, and 
 a pretty chapeau of jmille de ris, form this 
 becoming toilette, which is considered a suit- 
 able one for all theatres, except the Opera, 
 where ladies go in a richer dress. 
 
 On our return from Tivoli, we had a small 
 party to drink tea, and remained chatting 
 till one o'clock— ^a late hour for Paris. 
 Among the guests was our old friend Mr. 
 T. Steuart, the nephew of Sir William 
 Drummond, who continues to be as clever 
 and original as ever. His lively remarks 
 and brilliant sallies were very amusing. 
 
 Having complained of the want of a com- 
 fortable chair last evening, I found a chef 
 d'ceuvre of Rainguet's in my scdon this morn- 
 ing, sent me by my thoughtful and ever - kind 
 friend the Due de Guiche. A connoisseur 
 
PARIS. 97 
 
 in chairs and sofas, being unhappily addicted 
 to "taking mine ease" not only in "mine inn," 
 but wherever I meet these requisites to it, 
 I am compelled to acknowledge the supe- 
 riority of Rainguet over any that I have 
 previously seen; and my only fear is, that 
 this luxurious chair wall seduce me into the 
 still greater indulgence of my besetting or 
 besitti?2g sin, sedentary habits. 
 
 At length, w^e have found a house to suit 
 us, and a delightful one it is ; once the pro- 
 perty of the Marechal Ney, but now belonging 
 to the Marquis de Lillers. It is situated in 
 the Rue de Bourbon, but the windows of 
 the principal apartments look on the Seine, 
 and command a delightful view of the Thuil- 
 lerie Gardens. It is approached by an avenue 
 bounded by fine trees, and is enclosed on 
 the Rue de Bourbon side by high walls, a 
 large porte cochere, and a porter's lodge ; 
 which give it all the quiet and security of 
 a country house. 
 
 VOL. I. F 
 
98 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 This hotel may he viewed as a type of the 
 splendour that marked the dwellings of the 
 imperial noblesse, and some notion of it may 
 be conceived from the fact that the decorations 
 of its walls alone cost a million of francs. 
 These decorations are still — thanks to the 
 pm'ity of the air of Paris — as fresh as if 
 only a year painted, and are of great beauty; 
 so much so, that it will be not only very ex- 
 pensive but very difficult to assort the furni- 
 ture to them; and, unfortunately, there is not 
 a single meuhle in the house. 
 
 The rent is high, but there are so many 
 competitors for the hotel, which has only 
 been three days in the market, that we con- 
 sider ourselves fortunate in having secured it. 
 
 A small garden, or rather terrace, with 
 some large trees and plenty of flowers, sepa- 
 rates the house from the Quai d'Orsay, and 
 runs back at its left angle. The avenue ter- 
 minates in a court, from which, on the right, 
 a gate opens into the stable offices; and a 
 
PARIS. 99 
 
 vestibule, fitted up as a conservatory, forms an 
 entrance to the house. A ^mht of marble 
 steps on each side of the conservatory, leads 
 to a large ante-room, from which a window of 
 one immense plate of glass, extending from 
 the ceiling to the floor, divides the centre, 
 permitting the pyramids of flowers to be seen 
 through it. A glass door on each side opens 
 from the vestibule to the steps of the con- 
 servatory. 
 
 The vestibule, lofty and spacious, is lighted 
 also by two other windows, beyond the con- 
 servatory, and is ornamented with pilasters 
 with Corinthian capitals. 
 
 On the right hand is the salle a manger, 
 a fine room, lighted bv three windows lookino- 
 into the court-vard, and architecturallv ar- 
 ranged with pilasters, a rich cornice and ceil- 
 ing : the hall is stuccoed, painted in imitation 
 of marble, and has so fine a polish as readily 
 to deceive the eye. In the centre of this 
 apartment is a large door between the pilas- 
 
100 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ters, opening into a drawing-room, and at 
 the opposite end from the door that opens 
 from the vestibule is that which leads to the 
 kitchen offices, and by which dinner is served. 
 ViS'd'Vis to the salle a manger, and divided 
 from it by the large vestibule, is a dressing 
 and bed-chamber with an alcove, both rooms 
 being ornamented with columns and pilasters, 
 between which are mirrors of large dimensions 
 inserted in recesses. A corridor and escalier 
 derohe at the back of these two apartments 
 admit the attendance of servants, without 
 their passing through the vestibule. - 
 
 In the centre of this last, and opposite to 
 the large plate of glass that divides it from the 
 conservatory, large folding doors open into the 
 principal drawing-room, which is lighted by 
 three large and lofty windows, the centre one 
 exactly facing the folding doors, and, like 
 them, supported by pilasters. 
 
 This room is of large dimensions, and finely 
 proportioned J the sides and ends are divided 
 
PARIS. 101 
 
 by fluted pilasters with Corinthian capitals 
 richly gilt. At one extremity is a beautifully 
 sculptured chimney-piece of Parian marble, 
 over which is a vast mirror, bounded by 
 pilasters, that separate it fi'om a large panel 
 on each side, in the centre of which are exqui- 
 sitely designed allegorical groups. 
 
 At the opposite end, a mirror, of similar 
 dimensions to that over the chimney-piece, 
 and resting like it on a white marble slab, 
 occupies the centre, on each side of which are 
 panels with painted groups. Doors at each 
 end, and exactly facing, lead into other 
 salons ; opposite to the two end windows are 
 large mirrors, resting on marble slabs, bounded 
 by narrow panels with painted figures, and be- 
 tween the windows are also mirrors to corre- 
 spond. The pictorial adornments in this salon 
 are executed by the first artists of the day, and 
 with a total disregard of expense, so that it is 
 not to be wondered at that they are beautiful. 
 Military trophies are mingled with the deco- 
 
102 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 rations, the whole on a white ground, and 
 richly ornamented with gilding. The Seine, 
 with its boats, and the gay scene of the 
 Thuillerie Gardens, are reflected in the mir- 
 rors opposite to the windows, while the groups 
 on the panels are seen in the others. 
 
 Nothing can exceed the beauty of this room, 
 in which such fine proportion, architectural 
 decoration, and exquisite finish reign, that 
 the eye dwells on it with delight, and can 
 tra'ce no defect. 
 
 The door on the right-hand end, on enter- 
 ing, opens to a less richly ornamented salon, 
 inside which are two admirable bed-chambers 
 and dressing-rooms, communicating by an esca- 
 Her derohe \vith. a suite of servants' apartments. 
 The door on the left-hand end of the large 
 salon opens into a beautiful room, known as the 
 Salle de la Victoire, from its being decorated 
 by paintings allegorical of Victory. This apart- 
 ment is lighted by two large windows, and 
 opposite to them is a deep recess, or alcove. 
 
PARIS. 103 
 
 A cornice extends around the room, about 
 four feet beneath the ceiling, and is supported 
 by white columns, projecting into the chamber, 
 on each of which stands a figure of Victory 
 ofFerino' a wreath of laurels. This cornice 
 divides the room from the recess before 
 mentioned. 
 
 The chimney-piece is in a recess, with 
 columns on each side ; and the large mirror 
 over it, and which is finished by the cornice, 
 is faced by a similar one, also in a recess, 
 with white columns, standing on a plinth on 
 each side. The windows are finished by the 
 former cornice, that extends round the rooms, 
 and have similar columns on each side with 
 Victories on them, and a mirror between. 
 The room is white and gold, with delicate 
 arabesques, and medallions exquisitely painted. 
 
 This salo7i communicates with a corridor 
 behind it, which admits the attendance of 
 servants without the necessity of their passing 
 through the other apartments. Inside this 
 
104i THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 salon is a chamhre a coucJier, that looks as if 
 intended for some youthful queen, so beautiful 
 are its decorations. A recess, the frieze of 
 which rests on two white columns with silvered 
 capitals, is meant to receive a bed. 
 
 One side of the room is panelled with mirrors, 
 divided by pilasters with silver capitals ; and 
 on the opposite side, on which is the chimney, 
 similar panels occupy the same space. The 
 colour of the apartment is a light blue, with 
 silver mouldings to all the panels, and delicate 
 arabesques of silver. The chimney-piece and 
 doofs for the wood have silvered ornaments to 
 correspond. 
 
 Inside this chamber is the dressing-room, 
 which is of an octagon shape, and panelled 
 likewise with mirrors, in front of each of which 
 are white marble slabs to correspond with that 
 of the chimney-piece. The mouldings and 
 architectural decorations are silvered, and 
 arabesques of flowers are introduced. 
 
 This room opens into a salle de bain of an 
 
PARIS. 105 
 
 elliptical form ; the bath, of white marble, is 
 sunk in the pavement, which is tessellated. 
 From the ceiling immediately over the bath 
 hangs an alabaster lamp, held by the beak of a 
 dove ; the rest of the ceiling being painted 
 with Cupids throwing flowers. The room is 
 panelled wdth alternate mirrors and groups of 
 allegorical subjects finely executed ; and is 
 lighted by one window, composed of a single 
 plate of glass opening into a little spot of 
 garden secluded from the rest. A small library 
 completes the suite I have described, all the 
 apartments of which are on the ground floor. 
 There are several other rooms in a wing in the 
 court-yard, and the whole are in perfect order. 
 
 I remembered to-day, when standing in the 
 principal drawing-room, the tragic scene nar- 
 rated to me by Sir Robert Wilson as having 
 taken place there, when he had an interview 
 with the Princesse de la Moskowa, after the 
 condemnation of her brave husband. 
 
 He told me, years ago, how the splendour 
 
 F 2 
 
106 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the decorations of the salon — decorations 
 meant to commemorate the military glory of 
 the Marechal Ney — added to the tragic effect 
 of the scene in which that nohle- minded 
 woman, overwhelmed with horror and grief, 
 tm-ned away with a shudder from objects 
 that so forcibly reminded her of the brilliant 
 past, and so fearfully contrasted with the 
 terrible present. 
 
 He described to me the silence, broken only 
 by the sobs that heaved her agonised bosom ; 
 the figures of the few trusted friends permitted 
 to enter the presence of the distracted wife, 
 moving about with noiseless steps, as if fearful 
 of disturbing the sacredness of that grief to 
 offer consolation for which they felt their 
 tongues could form no words, so deeply did 
 their hearts sympathise with it. 
 
 He told me that the images of these 
 friends in the vast mirrors looked ghostly 
 in the dim twilight of closed blinds, the very 
 light of day having become insupportable 
 
PARIS. 107 
 
 to the broken-hearted wife, so soon to be 
 severed for ever, and by a violent death, from 
 the husband she adored. Ah, if these walls 
 could speak, what agony would they reveal ! 
 and if mirrors could retain the shadows replete 
 with despair they once reflected, who dare 
 look on them ? 
 
 I thought of all this to-dav, until the tears 
 came into my eyes, and I almost determined 
 not to hire the house, so powerfully did the 
 recollection of the past affect me : but I re- 
 membered that such is the fate of mankind ; 
 that there are no houses in which scenes of 
 misery have not taken place, and in which 
 breaking hearts have not been ready to prompt 
 the exclamation *' There is no sorrow like 
 
 mine." 
 
 How is the agony of such moments increased 
 bv the recollection that in the same chamber 
 where such bitter grief now reigns, joy and 
 pleasure once dwelt, and that those who shared 
 it can bless us no more I How like a cruel 
 
108 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 mockery, then, appear the splendour and 
 beauty of all that meets the eye, unchanged as 
 when it was in unison with our feelings, but 
 which now jars so fearfully with them ! 
 
 I wonder not that the bereaved wife fled 
 from this house, where every object reminded 
 her of a husband so fondly loved, so fearfully 
 lost, to mourn in some more humble abode 
 over the fate of Mm who could no more resist 
 the magical influence of the presence of that 
 glorious chief, who had so often led him to 
 victory, than the war-horse can resist being 
 animated by the sound of that trumpet which 
 has often excited the proud animal into ardour. 
 
 Peace be to thy manes, gallant Ney ; and 
 if thy spirit be permitted to look down on 
 this earth, it will be soothed by the know- 
 ledge that the wife of thy bosom has remained 
 faithful to thy memory ; and that thy sons, 
 worthy of their sire — brave, noble, and gene- 
 rous-hearted — are devoted to their country, for 
 which thou hadst so often fought and bled ! 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 To my surprise and pleasure, I find that a 
 usage exists at Paris which I have nowhere 
 else met with, namely, that of lettino- out 
 rich and fine furniture by the quarter, half, 
 or whole year, in any quantity required for 
 even the largest establishment, and on the 
 shortest notice. 
 
 I feared that we should be compelled to 
 buy furniture, or else to put up with an in- 
 ferior sort, little imagining that the most 
 costly can be procured on hire, and even a 
 large mansion made ready for the reception 
 of a family in forty-eight hours. This is 
 really like Aladdin's lamp, and is a usao-e 
 that merits being adopted in all capitals. 
 
 We have made an arrangement, that if 
 
110 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 we decide on remaining in Paris more than 
 a year, and wish to purchase the furniture, 
 the sum agreed to he paid for the year's 
 hire is to be allowed in the purchase - money, 
 which is to he named when the inventory 
 is made out. 
 
 We saw the house for the first time yes- 
 terday ; engaged it to-day for a year ; to- 
 morrow, the upholsterer will commence placing 
 the furniture in it ; and to-morrow night we 
 are to sleep in it. This is surely being very 
 expeditious, and saves a world of trouble as 
 well as of waiting. 
 
 Spent last evening at Madame Craufurd's. 
 Met there the Prince and Princesse Castelci- 
 cala, with their daughter, who is a very hand- 
 some woman. The Prince was a long time 
 Ambassador from Naples at the Court of St. 
 James, and he now fills the same station at 
 that of France. 
 
 The Princesse is sister to our friend Prince 
 Ischetella at Naples, and, like all her country- 
 
PARIS. Ill 
 
 women, appears sensible and unaffected. She 
 and ^Mademoiselle Dorotea speak English per- 
 fectly well, and profess a great liking to Eng- 
 land and its inhabitants. The Dowager Lady 
 Hawarden, the Marquise de Brehan, the Ba- 
 roness d'Echlingen, Madame d'Ocaris, Lady 
 Barbara Craufurd, and Lady Combermere, 
 composed the rest of the female portion of 
 the party. 
 
 Lady Hawarden has been very pretty : 
 what a melancholy phrase is this same has 
 been I ' The Marquise de Brehan is still a 
 very fine woman ; Lady Combermere is very 
 agreeable, and sings with great expression ; 
 and the rest of the ladies, always excepting 
 Lady Barbara Craufurd, who is very pretty, 
 were very much like most other ladies of a 
 certain time of life — addicted to silks and 
 blondes, and well aware of their relative 
 prices. 
 
 IMadame Craufurd is very amusing. "With 
 all the naivete of a child, she possesses a quick 
 
112 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 perception of character and a freshness of 
 feeling rarely found in a person of her ad- 
 vanced age, and her observations are full of 
 originality. 
 
 The tone of society at Paris is very agree- 
 able. Literature, the fine arts, and the general 
 occurrences of the day, furnish the topics for 
 conversation, from which ill-natured remarks 
 are exploded. A ceremoniousness of manner, 
 reminding one oiLa Vieille Cour, and probably 
 rendered a la mode by the restoration of the 
 Bourbons, prevails ; as well as a strict observ- 
 ance of deferential respect from the men towards 
 the women, while these last seem to assume 
 that superiority accorded to them in manner, 
 if not entertained in fact, by the sterner sex. 
 
 The attention paid by young men to old 
 women in Parisian society is very edifying, 
 and any breach of it would be esteemed 
 nothing short of a crime. This attention is 
 not evinced by any flattery, except the most 
 delicate — a profound silence when these belles 
 
PARIS. 113 
 
 of other davs recount anecdotes of their own 
 times, or comment on the occurrences of ours, 
 or by an alacrity to perform the little services 
 of picking up a fallen mouclioir de poche, 
 bouquet, or fan, placing a shawl, or handing 
 to a carriage. 
 
 If flirtations exist at Paris, they certainly 
 are not exhibited in public ; and those be- 
 tween whom they are supposed to be estab- 
 lished observe a ceremonious decorum towards 
 each other, well calculated to throw discredit 
 on the supposition. This appearance of re- 
 serve may be termed hypocrisy ; nevertheless, 
 even the semblance of propriety is advan- 
 tageous to the interests of society ; and the 
 entire freedom from those marked attentions, 
 eno^rossinof conversations, and from that fami- 
 liaritv of manner often permitted in England, 
 without even a thought of evil on the part of the 
 women who permit these indiscretions, leaves 
 to Parisian circles an air of greater dignity 
 and decorum, although I am not disposed to 
 
114 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 admit that the persons^ who compose them 
 really possess more dignity or decorum than 
 mv compatriots. 
 
 Count Charles de Mornay was presented to 
 me to-day. Having heard of him only as — 
 
 " The glass of fashion and the mould of form, 
 The observed of all observers," 
 
 I was agreeahly surprised to find him one of 
 the most witty, well-informed, and agreeable 
 young men I have ever seen. Gay without 
 levity, well-read without pedantry, and good- 
 looking without vanity. Of how few young 
 men of fashion could this he said! But I am 
 persuaded that Count Charles de Mornay is 
 made to be something better than a mere 
 man of fashion. 
 
 Spent all the morning in the Hotel Ney, 
 superintending the placing of the furniture. 
 There is nothing so like the magicians we 
 read of as Parisian upholsterers ; for no 
 sooner have they entered a house, than, as if 
 
PARIS. 115 
 
 touched by the hand of the enchanter, it 
 assumes a totally different aspect. I could 
 hardly believe my eyes when I entered our 
 new dwelling, to-day. 
 
 Already were the carpets — and such car- 
 pets, too — laid down on the salons ; the cur- 
 tains were hung ; consoles, sofas, tables, and 
 chairs placed, and lustres suspended. In 
 short, the rooms looked perfectly habitable. 
 
 The principal drawing-room has a carpet 
 of dark crimson with a gold-coloured border, 
 on which is a wreath of flowers that looks as 
 if newly culled from the garden, so rich, 
 varied, and bright are their hues. The cur- 
 tains are of crimson satin, with embossed bor- 
 ders of gold-colour ; and the sofas, hergereSy 
 fauteuils, and chairs, richly carved and gilt, 
 are covered with satin to correspond with the 
 curtains. 
 
 Gilt consoles, and chiffonnieres, with white 
 marble tops, are placed wherever they could 
 
116 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 be disposed ; and, on the chimney-pieces, are 
 fine pendules. 
 
 The next drawing-room, which I have ap- 
 propriated as my sitting-room, is furnished 
 with blue satin, with rich white flowers. It has 
 a carpet of a chocolate-coloured ground with a 
 blue border, round which is a wreath of bright 
 flowers, and carved and gilt sofas, hergeres, 
 siidfauteuils, covered with blue satin like the 
 curtains. 
 
 The recess we have lined with fluted blue 
 silk, with a large mirror placed in the centre 
 of it, and five beautiful buhl cabinets around, 
 on which I intend to dispose all my treasures 
 of old sSvre china, and ruby glass. 
 
 I was told by the upholsterer, that he had 
 pledged himself to milord that Jiiiladi was not 
 to see her chamhre a couclier, or dressing- 
 room, until they were furnished. This I well 
 knew was some scheme laid by Lord B. to 
 surprise me, for he delights in such plans. 
 
PARIS. , 117 
 
 He will not tell me what is doing in the 
 rooms, and refuses all my entreaties to enter 
 them, but shakes his head, and says he 
 tl links I will be pleased when I see them ; 
 and so I think, too, for the only complaint I 
 ever have to make of his taste is its too o-reat 
 splendour — a proof of which he gave me 
 when I went to Mountjoy Forest on my mar- 
 riage, and found my private sitting-room hung 
 with crimson Genoa silk velvet, trimmed 
 with gold bullion fringe, and all the furniture 
 of equal richness — a richness that was only 
 suited to a state room in a palace. 
 
 AVe feel like children with a new plaything, 
 in our beautiful house ; but how, after it, 
 shall we ever be able to reconcile ourselves 
 to the comparatively dingy rooms in St. 
 James's Square, which no furniture or de- 
 coration could render any thing like the Hotel 
 Ney? 
 
 The Due and Duchesse de Guiche leave 
 Paris, to my great regret, in a few days, and 
 
118 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 will be absent six weeks. He is to command 
 the encampment at Luneville, and she is to 
 do the honours — giving dinners, balls, con- 
 certs, and soirees, to the ladies who accom- 
 pany their lords to "the tented field," and 
 to the numerous visitors who resort to see it. 
 They have invited us to go to them, but we 
 cannot accept their kindness. They are 
 
 " On hospitable thoughts intent," 
 
 and will, I doubt not, conciliate the esteem 
 of all with whom they come in contact. 
 
 He is so well bred, that the men pardon 
 his superiority both of person and manner ; 
 and she is so warm-hearted and amiable, that 
 the women, with a few exceptions, forgive her 
 rare beauty. How we shall miss them, and 
 the dear children, too ! 
 
 Drove in the Bois de Boulogne yesterday, 
 with the Duchesse de Guiche : met my old 
 acquaintance. Lord Yarmouth, who is as 
 amusing- and orig^inal as ever. 
 
PARIS. 119 
 
 He has great natural talent and knowledge 
 of the world, but uses both to little purpose, 
 save to laugh at its slaves. He might be any- 
 thing he chose, but he is too indolent for 
 exertion, and seems to think le jeu m vaut pas 
 la cliandeUe. He is one of the manv clever 
 people spoilt by being born to a great fortune 
 and high rank, advantages which exclude the 
 necessity of exercising the talents he possesses. 
 
 It is, however, no trifling merit, that born 
 to immense wealth and high station, he should 
 be wholly free from arrogance, or ostentation. 
 
 At length, the secret is out, the doors of mv 
 chamhre a coucher and dressing-room are 
 opened, and I am delighted with both. The 
 whole fitting up is in exquisite taste, and, as 
 usual, w^hen my most gallant of all gallant 
 husbands that it ever fell to the happy lot of 
 woman to possess, interferes, no expense has 
 been spared. 
 
 The bed, which is silvered, instead of gilt, 
 rests on the backs of two large silver swans. 
 
120 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 SO exquisitely sculptured that every feather 
 is in alto-relievo, and looks nearly as fleecy as 
 those of the living hird. The recess in which 
 it is placed is lined with white fluted silk, 
 bordered with blue embossed lace ; and from 
 the columns that support the frieze of the 
 recess, pale blue silk curtains, lined with 
 white, are hung, which, when drawn, conceal 
 the recess altogether. 
 
 The window curtain is of pale blue silk, with 
 embroidered muslin curtains, trimmed with 
 lace inside them, and have borders of blue 
 and white lace to match those of the recess. 
 
 A silvered sofa has been made to fit the 
 side of the room opposite the fire-place, near 
 to which stands a most inviting hergdre. An 
 ecritoire occupies one panel, a book-stand 
 the other, and a rich cofi^er for jewels, forms 
 a pendant to a similar one for lace, or India 
 shawls. 
 
 A carpet of uncut pile, of a pale blue, a 
 silver lamp, and a Psyche glass, the ornaments 
 
PARIS. 121 
 
 silvered to correspond with the decorations of 
 the chamber, complete the furniture. The 
 hangings of the dressing-room are of blue silk, 
 covered with lace, and trimmed with rich frills 
 of the same material, as are also the dressing- 
 stools and chaise tongue, anS the carpet and 
 lamp are similar to those of the bed-i'oom. 
 
 A toilette table stands before thew^indow, 
 and small jardinieres are placed in front of 
 each pa,nel of looking-glass, but so low as not 
 to impede a full view of the person dressing in 
 this beautiful little sanctuary. 
 
 The salle de hain is draped with white muslin 
 trimmed with lace, and the sofa and hergire 
 are covered wdth the same. The bath is of 
 white marble, inserted in the floor, with which 
 its surface is level. On the ceiling over it, is 
 a painting of Flora scattering flowers with one 
 hand, while from the other is suspended an 
 alabaster lamp, in the form of a lotos. 
 
 A more tasteful or elegant suite of apart- 
 ments cannot be imagined; and all this per- 
 
 VOL. I. G 
 
122 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 fection of furniture has been completed in 
 three days ! Lord B. has all the merit of the 
 taste, and the upholsterer that of the rapidity 
 and excellence of the execution. 
 
 The effect of the whole suite is chastely 
 beautiful; and a queen could desire nothing 
 better for her own private apartments. Few 
 queens, most probably, ever had such tasteful 
 ones. 
 
 Our kind friend, Charles Mills, has ar- 
 rived from Rome — amiable and agreeable as 
 ever. He dined with us yesterday, and we 
 talked over the pleasant days spent in the 
 Vienna Palatina, his beautiful villa. 
 
 Breakfasted to-day in the Rue d'Anjou, a 
 take-leave repast given to the Due and Du- 
 chesse de Guiche by Madame Craufurd. 
 Lady Barbara and Colonel Craufurd were of 
 the party, which was the only triste one I have 
 seen in that house. The Due de Gramont 
 was there, and joined in the regret we all felt 
 at seeing our dear friends drive away. 
 
PARIS. 123 
 
 It was touchinor to behold Madame Crau- 
 furd, kissing again and again her grandchildren 
 and great-gi'andchildren, the tears streaming 
 down her cheeks, and the venerable Due de 
 Gramont, scarcely less moved, embracing his 
 son and daughter-in-law, and exhorting the 
 latter to take care of her health, while the 
 dear little Ida, his grandaughter, not yet * 
 two years old, patted his cheeks, and smiled 
 in his face. 
 
 It is truly delightful to witness the warm affec- 
 tion that subsists between relatives in France, 
 and the dutiful and respectful attention paid by 
 children to their parents. In no instance have 
 I seen this more strongly exemplified than in 
 the Due and Duchesse de Guiche, whose 
 unceasing tenderness towards the good Due 
 de Gramont not only makes his happiness, 
 but is gratifying to all who behold it, as is 
 also their conduct to Madame Craufurd. 
 
 I wish the encampment was over, and these 
 dear fi'iends back again. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Took possession of our new house to- 
 day, and are delighted with it. Its repose 
 and quiet are very agreeable, after the noise 
 and bustle of the Rue de Rivoli. Spent seve- 
 ral hours in superintending the arrangement 
 of my books, china, bijouterie, and flowers, 
 and the rooms look as habitable as if we had 
 lived in them for weeks. How fortunate we 
 are to have found so charming an abode ! 
 
 A chasm here occurs in my journal, oc- 
 casioned by the arrival of some dear rela- 
 tives from England, with whom I was too 
 much occupied to have time to journalise. 
 What changes five years effect in young 
 
PARIS. 125 
 
 people ! The dear girls I left children are 
 now growTi into women, but are as artless 
 and affectionate as in childhood. I could 
 hardly believe my eyes when I saw them, yet 
 I soon traced the same dear countenances, and 
 marvelled that though changed from the round, 
 dimpled ones of infancy, to the more delicate 
 oval of maidenly beauty, the expression of 
 gaiety and innocence of their faces is still 
 the same. 
 
 A week has passed rapidly by, and now that 
 they have returned to England, their visit 
 appears like a dream. I wish it had been 
 longer, for I have seen only enough of them 
 to wish to see a great deal more. 
 
 The good Mrs. W. and her lively, clever, 
 and her pretty daughter, Mrs. R., dined 
 with us yesterday. They are en route for 
 England, but give many a sigh to dear Italy. 
 It was pleasant to talk over the happy days 
 passed there, which we did with that tender 
 
1^6 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 regret with which the past is always referred 
 to by those who have sensibility, and they pos- 
 sess no ordinary portion of this lovable qua- 
 lity. Les Dames Bellegarde also dined with 
 us, and they and our English friends took a 
 mutual fancy to each other. I like the Belle- 
 gardes exceedingly. 
 
 Our old friend, Lord Lilford, is at Paris, 
 and is as amiable and kind-hearted as ever. 
 He dined with us yesterday, and we talked 
 over the pleasant days we spent at Florence. 
 Well-educated, and addicted to neither of the 
 prevalent follies of the day, racing nor gaming, 
 he only requires a little ambition to prompt 
 him to exertion, in order to become a useful, 
 as well as an agreeable member of the com- 
 munity, but with a good fortune and rank, he 
 requires an incentive to action. 
 
 Met last evening at Madame Craufurd's 
 the Marquis and Marquise Zamperi of Bo- 
 logna. She is pretty and agreeable, and he is 
 
PARIS. 127 
 
 original and amusing. They were very civil, 
 and expressed regret at not having been at 
 Boloo^na when we were there. 
 
 Had a visit from Count Alexander de la 
 Borde to-day. His conversation is lively 
 and entertaining. Full of general information 
 and good sense, he is no niggard in imparting 
 the results of both to those with whom he 
 comes in contact, and talks fluently, if not 
 always faultlessly, in Italian and English. 
 
 The Marquis de Mornay and his brother 
 Count Charles de Mornay dined here yester- 
 day. How many associations of the olden 
 time are recalled by this ancient and noble 
 name, Mornay du Plessis ! 
 
 The Marquis is agreeable, sensible, well- 
 informed, and well-bred. Though justly 
 proud of his high descent, the consciousness 
 of it is never rendered visible by any symptom 
 of that arroofance too often met with in those 
 who have less cause for pride, and can only 
 
128 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 be traced by a natural dignity and bearing, 
 worthy a descendant of the noble Sully. 
 
 Count Charles de Mornay is a very re- 
 markable young man. With a brilliant wit, 
 the sallies of which can " set the table in a 
 roar;" it is never used at the expense of 
 others, and, when he chooses to be grave, 
 the quickness and justice of his perception, 
 and the fine tact and good sense which mark 
 his reflections, betray a mind of no common 
 order, and give the promise of future dis- 
 tinction. 
 
 Nothing can be more agreeable than the 
 mode in which I pass my time here. I read 
 from nine until twelve; order the household 
 arrangements, and inspect the menu at twelve ; 
 write letters or journalise from one until four; 
 drive out till six or half-past; return home, 
 dress, dine, pay visits, or receive them at 
 home, and get to bed at one o'clock. 
 
 How much preferable is the French system 
 
PARIS. 129 
 
 of evening visits, to the English custom of 
 morning ones, which cut up time so abomi- 
 nably ! Few who have lived much abroad 
 could submit patiently to have their mornings 
 broken in upon, when evening, which is the 
 most suitable time for relaxation, can be en- 
 livened by the visits that are irksome at 
 other hours. 
 
 Paris is now nearly as empty as London is 
 in September ; all the elite of French fashion- 
 able society having taken their departure for 
 their country houses, or for the different baths 
 they frequent. I, who like not crowds, prefer 
 Paris at this season to any other, and shall 
 be rather sorry than glad when it fills again. 
 
 Madame Craufurd, Lady Barbara and 
 Colonel Craufurd, the Dues de Gramont, 
 Dalberg, and Mouchy, dined with us yester- 
 day. We had music in the evening. The 
 Due Dalberg is agreeable and well bred, and 
 his manner has that suavity, mingled with 
 reserve, said to be peculiar to those who 
 
 G 2 
 
130 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 have lived much at courts, and filled diplo- 
 matic situations. 
 
 The Due was Minister Plenipotentiary from 
 Baden at Paris, when Napoleon was First 
 Consul, and escaped not censure on the occa- 
 sion of the seizure of the unfortunate Due 
 d'Enghien; of the intention of which it was 
 thought he ought to have apprised his court, 
 and so have prevented an event which has 
 entailed just blame on all concerned in it, 
 as well as on some who were innocent. 
 
 There is nothing in the character of the 
 Due Dalberg to warrant a belief of his being 
 capable of lending himself to aught that was 
 disloyal, for he is an excellent man in all the 
 relations of life, and is esteemed and re- 
 spected by as large a circle of friends as 
 most persons who have filled high situations 
 can boast of. 
 
 The Due de Mouchy is a very amiable 
 as well as high-bred man ; he has been in 
 England, and speaks English with fluency. 
 
PARIS. 131 
 
 Letters from the camp of Luneville, received 
 from our dear friends to-day, give a very 
 animated description of their doings there. 
 The Due de iVIouchy told me yesterday that 
 they were winning golden opinions from all 
 with whom they came in contact there, by 
 their urbanity and hospitality. He said that 
 people were not prepared to find the hand- 
 somest and most fashionable woman at Paris, 
 " the observed of all observers," and the 
 brightest ornament of the French court, doing 
 the honors to the wives of the officers of the 
 camp with an amiability that has captivated 
 them aU. The good Due de Gramont was 
 delighted at hearing this account, for never 
 was there a more affectionate father. 
 
 Went with a party yesterday to Mont- 
 morency. Madame Craufurd, the Comtesse 
 de Gand, the Baronne d'Etlingen, Comte 
 F. de Belmont, and our own circle, formed 
 the party. It was gratifying to witness how 
 much dear Madame Craufurd enjoyed the 
 
132 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 excursion ; she even rode on a donkey through 
 the woods, and the youngest person of the 
 party did not enter into the amusement 
 with more spirit and gaiety. Montmorency 
 is a charming place, but not so the road to 
 it, which, being paved, is very tiresome. 
 
 We visited the hermitage where Rousseau 
 wrote so many of his works, but in which this 
 strange and unhappy man found not that 
 peace so long sought by him in vain, and to 
 which his own wayward temper and suspicious 
 nature offered an insurmountable obstacle. 
 
 As I sat in this humble abode, and looked 
 around on the objects once familiar to his 
 eyes, I could not resist the sentiment of pity 
 that filled my breast at the recollection that 
 even in this tranquil asylum, provided by 
 friendship,* .and removed from the turmoil of 
 the busy world, so repugnant to his taste, the 
 
 * The hermitage was lent him by Madame D'Epinay, 
 to whom his subsequent ingratitude forms a dark page 
 in her Memoir es. 
 
PARIS. 133 
 
 jealousies, the heart-burnings, and the sus- 
 picions, that empoisoned his existence followed 
 him, rendering his life not only a source of 
 misery to himself, but of pain to others ; for 
 no one ever conferred kindness on him with- 
 out becoming the object of his suspicion, if 
 not of his aversion. 
 
 The life of Rousseau is one of the most 
 humiliating episodes in the whole history of 
 literary men, and the most calculated to brino- 
 genius into disrepute : yet the misery he en- 
 dured more than avens^ed the wronos he 
 inflicted; and, while admiring the productions 
 of a genius, of which even his enemies could 
 not deny him the possession, we are more than 
 ever compelled to avow how unavailing is this 
 glorious gift to confer happiness on its owner, 
 or to secure him respect or esteem, if unaccom- 
 panied by goodness. 
 
 Who can reflect on the life of this man 
 without a sense of the danger to which Genius 
 exposes its children, and a pity for their suf- 
 
134 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ferings, though too often self-inflicted ? Alas ! 
 the sensibility which is one of the most in- 
 variable characteristics of Genius, and by 
 which its most glorious efforts are achieved, 
 if excited into unhealthy action by over-ex- 
 ercise, not unseldom renders its possessor un- 
 reasonable and wretched, while his works are 
 benefiting or delighting others, and while the 
 very persons who most highly appreciate them 
 are often the least disposed to pardon the 
 errors of their author. 
 
 As the dancer, by the constant practice of 
 her art, soon loses that roundness of contour 
 which is one of the most beautiful peculiarities 
 of her sex, the muscles of the legs becoming 
 unnaturally developed at the expense of the 
 rest of the figure, so does the man of genius, 
 by the undue exercise of this gift, acquire an 
 irritability that soon impairs the temper, and 
 renders his excess of sensibility a torment to 
 himself and to others. 
 
 The solitude necessary to the exercise of 
 
PARIS. 135 
 
 Genius is another fruitful source of evil to 
 its children. Abstracted from the world, they 
 are apt to form a false estimate of themselves 
 and of it, and to entertain exaggerated expecta- 
 tions from it. Their morbid feelings are little 
 able to support the disappointment certain to 
 ensue, and they either rush into a reprisal of 
 imaginary wrongs, by satire on others, or in- 
 flict torture on themselves by the belief, often 
 erroneous, of the injuries they have sustained. 
 I remembered in this abode a passage in 
 one of the best letters ever written by Rous- 
 seau, and addressed to Voltaire, on the subject 
 of his poem, entitled Sur la Loi Naturelle, et 
 sur le Desastre de Lisbonne ; in which, refer- 
 ring to an assertion of Voltaire's, that few 
 persons would wish to live over again on the 
 condition of enduring the same trials, and 
 which Rousseau combats by urging that it 
 is only the rich, fatigued by their pleasures, 
 or literary men, of whom he writes — '' Des 
 gens de lettres, de tons les ordres dliommes le 
 
136 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 plus sedentaire, le plus mal sain, le plus re- 
 flechissant, et, par consequent, le plus malheu- 
 reuxy' who would decline to live over again, 
 had they the power. 
 
 This description of men of letters, written by 
 one of themselves, is a melancholy, but, alas ! 
 a true one, and should console the enviers of 
 genius for the want of a gift that but too often 
 entails such misery on its possessors. 
 
 The church of Montmorency is a good spe- 
 cimen of Gothic architecture, and greatly em- 
 bellishes the little town, which is built on 
 the side of a hill, and commands a delicious 
 view of the chestnut forest and valley, clothed 
 with pretty villas, that render it so much 
 and so justly admired. 
 
 It was amusing to listen to the diversity 
 of opinions entertained by our. party relative 
 to Rousseau, as we wandered through the 
 scenes which he so often frequented ; each in- 
 dividual censuring or defending him, accord- 
 ing to the bias of his or her disposition. On 
 
PARIS. 137 
 
 one point all agreed ; which was, that, if 
 judged by his actions, little could be said in 
 mitigation of the conduct of him who, while 
 writing sentiments fraught with passion and 
 tenderness, could consign his offspring to a 
 foundling hospital ! 
 
 Haying yisited eyery object worthy of atten- 
 tion at Montmorency, we proceeded to En- 
 ghien, to examine the baths established there. 
 The building is of yast extent, containing no 
 less than forty chambers, comfortably fur- 
 nished for the accommodation of bathers ; and 
 a good restaurateur furnishes the repasts. 
 The apartments command a beautiful yiew, 
 and the park of St. Gratien offers a delightful 
 promenade to the yisitors of Enghien. 
 
 Our route back to Paris was rendered yery 
 agreeable by the liyely and cleyer conversation 
 of the Comtesse de Gand. I haye rarely 
 met with a more amusing person. 
 
 With a most retentiye memory, she pos- 
 sesses the tact that does not always accompany 
 
138 - THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 this precious gift — that of only repeating what 
 is perfectly a propos and interesting, with a 
 fund of anecdotes that might form an inexhaust- 
 ible capital for a professional diner-out to set 
 up with ; an ill-natured one never escapes her 
 lips, and yet — hear it all ye who believe, or 
 act as if ye believe, that malice and wit are 
 inseparable allies! — it would be difficult to find 
 a more entertaining and lively companion. 
 
 Our old friend. Col. E. Lygon, came to 
 see us to-day, and is as amiable as ever. He 
 is a specimen of a military man of which 
 England may well be proud. 
 
 The Dues de Talleyrand and Dino, the 
 Marquis de Mornay, the Marquis de Dreux 
 Breze, and Count Charles de Mornay, dined 
 here yesterday. The Marquis de Breze is a 
 clever man, and his conversation is highly 
 interesting. Well-informed and sensible, he 
 has directed much of his attention to politics 
 without being, as is too often the case with 
 politicians, wholly engrossed by them. He 
 
PARIS. 139 
 
 appears to me to be a man likely to distinguish 
 himself in public life. 
 
 There could not be found two individuals 
 more dissimilar, or more formed for furnishing 
 specimens of the noblemen of la Vieille Cour 
 and the present time, than the Due de Talley- 
 rand and the Marquis de Dreux Breze. The 
 Due, well-dressed and well-bred, but offering in 
 his toilette and in his manners irrefragable 
 evidence that both have been studied, and his 
 conversation bearing that high polish and 
 urbanity w^hich, if not always characteristics 
 of talent, conceal the absence of it, represents 
 Vancien regime^ when les grands seigneurs 
 were more desirous to serve les belles dames 
 than their country, and more anxious to be 
 distinguished in the salons of the Faubourg 
 St. Germain than in the Chamhre de Par- 
 liament. 
 
 The Marquis de Dreux Breze, well-dressed 
 and well-bred, too, appears not to have studied 
 either his toilette or his manners j and, though 
 
140 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 by no means deficient in polite attention to 
 women, seems to believe that there are higher 
 and more praiseworthy pursuits than that of 
 thinking ^only how to please them, and bestows 
 more thought on the Chamhre des Pairs than 
 on the salons a la mode. 
 
 One is a passive and ornamental member of 
 society, the other a useful and active politician. 
 I have remarked that the Frenchmen of high 
 birth of the present time all seem disposed 
 to take pains in fitting themselves for the 
 duties of their station. They read much and 
 with profit, travel much more than formerly, 
 and are free from the narrow prejudices 
 against other countries, which, while they 
 prove not a man's attachment to his own, ofi*er 
 one of the most insurmountable of all barriers 
 to that good understanding so necessary to be 
 maintained between nations. 
 
 Dined yesterday at St. Cloud with the 
 Baron and Baroness de Ruysch ; a very agree- 
 able and intellectual pair, who have made a 
 
PARIS. 141 
 
 little paradise around them in the shape of 
 an English pleasure-ground, blooming with 
 rare shrubs and flowers. 
 
 Our old friend, Mr. Douglas Kinnaird — 
 "the honourable Dug," as poor Lord B}Ton 
 used to called him — paid me a visit to-day. 
 I had not seen him for seven years, and these 
 same vears have left their traces on his brow. 
 He is in delicate health, and is only come 
 over to Paris for a very few days. 
 
 He has lived in the same scenes and in the 
 same routine that we left him, wholly en- 
 grossed by them, while 
 
 " I've taught me other tongues, and in strange eyes 
 Have made me not a stranger ;" 
 
 and wonder how people can be content to 
 dwell whole years in so circumscribed, how- 
 ever useful, a circle. 
 
 Those who live much in London seem to 
 me to have tasted the lotus which, according 
 to the fable of old, induced forge tfulness of the 
 
142 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 past, SO wholly are they engrossed by the 
 present, and by the vortex in which they find 
 themselves plunged. 
 
 Much as I like England, and few love it 
 more dearly, I should not like to pass all 
 the rest of my life in it. All, nil : it is thus we 
 ever count on futurity, reckoning as if our 
 lives were certain of being prolonged, w^hen we 
 know not that the all on which we so boldly 
 calculate may not be terminated in a day, 
 nav, even in an hour. Who is there that can 
 boast an English birth, that would not wish 
 to die at home and rest in an English grave ? 
 
 Sir Francis Burdett has arrived, and means 
 to stay some time here. He called on us 
 yesterday with Colonel Leicester Stanhope, 
 and is as agreeable and good-natured as ever. 
 He is much feted at Paris, and receives great 
 attention from the Due d'Orleans, who has 
 offered him his boxes at the theatres, and 
 shews him all m.anner of civilities. 
 
 Colonel Leicester Stanhope gave me some 
 
PARIS. 143 
 
 interesting details of poor Byron's last days 
 in Greece, and seems to have duly appreciated 
 his many fine qualities, in spite of the errors 
 that shrouded hut could not eclipse them. 
 The fine temper and good hreeding that 
 seem to be characteristic of the Stanhope 
 family, have not degenerated in this branch 
 of it ; and his manner, as well as his voice and 
 accent, remind me very forcibly of my dear 
 old friend his father, who is one of the most 
 amiable, as well as agreeable men I ever 
 knew, and w^ho I look forward with pleasure 
 to meeting on my return home. 
 
 The Marquise Palavicini from Genoa, her 
 daughter-in-law the Princesse Doria, Sir Francis 
 Burdett, and Colonel Leicester Stanhope, dined 
 with us yesterday. The Marquise Palavicini 
 is a very sensible and agreeable woman, and 
 the Princesse Doria is very pretty and amiable. 
 Like most of her countrywomen, this young 
 and attractive person is wholly free from that 
 aff^ectation which deteriorates from so many 
 
144 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the women of other countries ; and the 
 simplicity of her manner, which is as remote 
 from gauclierie as it is from affectation, invests 
 her with a peculiar charm. 
 
 We talked over Genoa, where we have 
 spent so many pleasant days, and the heautiful 
 gardens of the villa Palavicini, the possession 
 of which has always tempted me to envy its 
 owner. I have never passed an hour in the 
 society of Italian women without feeling the 
 peculiar charm of their manner, and wishing 
 that its ease and simplicity were more gene- 
 rally adopted. 
 
 The ahsence of any effort to shine, the 
 gentleness without insipidity, the liveliness 
 without levity, and, ahove all, the perfect good 
 nature that precludes aught that could be 
 disagreeable to others, form the distinguishing 
 characteristics of the manner of Italian women 
 from the princess to the peasant, and are alike 
 practised by both towards all with whom they 
 converse. 
 
PARIS. 145 
 
 Lord Damlev and Lord Charlemont dined 
 here yesterday. It is pleasant to see old and 
 familiar faces again, even though the traces 
 of Time on their brows recall to mind the 
 marks which the ruthless tyrant must have 
 inflicted on our own. We all declared that 
 we saw no change in each other, but the 
 looks of surprise and disappointment exchanged 
 at meeting contradicted the assertion. 
 
 Mr. Charles Young, the tragedian, dined 
 here to - day. We were very glad to see 
 him again, for he is a very estimable as well 
 as agreeable member of society, and reflects 
 honour on his profession. 
 
 Lord LansdowTie came here with Count 
 Flahault this evening. It is now seven years 
 since I last saw him, but time has dealt kindly 
 with him during that period, as it ever does 
 to those who possess equanimity of mind and 
 health of body. Lord Lansdowne has always 
 appeared to me to be peculiarly formed for a 
 statesman. 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
146 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 With a fortune that exempts him from in- 
 curring even the suspicion of mercenary mo- 
 tives for holding office, and a rank which pre- 
 cludes that of entertaining the ambition of 
 seeking a higher, he is free from the angry 
 passions that more or less influence the gene- 
 rality of other men. To an unprejudiced 
 mind, he joins self-respect without arrogance, 
 self-possession without effrontery, solid and 
 general information, considerable power of ap- 
 plication to business, a calm and gentlemanly 
 demeanour, and an urbanity of manner which, 
 while it conciliates good will never descends 
 to, or encourages, familiarity. 
 
 A lover and liberal patron of the fine arts, 
 he is an encourager of literature, and partial 
 to the society of literary men ; irreproachable 
 in private life, and respected in public, what 
 is there wanting to render him faultless ? 
 
 I, who used to enjoy a good deal of his 
 society in England, am of opinion, that the 
 sole thing wanting is the warmth and cor- 
 
PARIS. 147 
 
 dialitv of manner which beget friends and 
 retain partisans, and without which no minis- 
 ter can count on constant supporters. 
 
 It is a curious circumstance, that the poli- 
 tical party to which Lord Lansdowne is op- 
 posed can boast a man among those most 
 likely to hold the reins of government, to 
 whom all that I have said of Lord Lansdowne 
 might, with little modification, be applied. I 
 refer to Sir Robert Peel, whose acquaintance 
 I enjoyed in England ; and who is much 
 younger, and perhaps bolder, than Lord Lans- 
 downe. 
 
 Happy, in my opinion, is the country which 
 possesses such men ; though the friends and 
 admirers of each would probably feel little 
 disposed to admit any comparison to be insti- 
 tuted between them, and would deride, if not 
 assail, any one, for making it. 
 
 Sir Francis Burdett dined here yesterday, 
 and we had the Count Alexandre la Borde 
 and Count Charles de Mornay, to meet him. 
 
148 ' THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Several people came in the evening. I have 
 lent a pile of books to Sir F. B., who con- 
 tinues to read as much as formerly, and 
 forgets nothing that he peruses. His in- 
 formation is, consequently, very extensive, and 
 renders his conversation very interesting. His 
 thirst for knowledge is insatiable, and leads 
 him to every scientific resort where it may be 
 gratified. 
 
 Spent last evening at Madame Craufurd's. 
 Met there, the Princesse Castelcicala and her 
 daughter, Lady Drummond, Mr. T. Steuart, 
 and various others — among them, a daughter 
 of the Marquess of Ailesbury, who has mar- 
 ried a French nobleman, and resides in 
 Paris. 
 
 Lady Drummond talked to me a good deal 
 of Sir William, and evinced much respect for 
 his memory. She is proud, and she may well 
 be so, of having been the wife of such a man ; 
 though there was but little sympathy between 
 their tastes and pursuits, and his death can 
 
PARIS. 149 
 
 produce so little change in her hahits of life, 
 that she can scarcely be said to miss him. 
 
 He passed his days and the greater portion 
 of his nights in reading or \mting, living in a 
 suite of rooms literally filled with books; the 
 tables, chairs, sofas, and even the floors, being 
 encumbered with them, going out only for a 
 short time in a carriage to get a little air, 
 or occasionally to dine out. 
 
 He seldom saw Lady Drummond, except at 
 dinner, surrounded by a large party. She 
 passed, as she still passes her time, in the 
 duties of an elaborate toilette, paying or re- 
 ceiving visits, gi^ing or going to fetes^ and 
 playing with her lap-dog. A strange wife 
 for one of the most intellectual men of his 
 day ! And yet this total dissimilarity produced 
 no discord between them ; for she was proud 
 of his acquirements, and he was indulgent 
 to her less spirituelle tastes. 
 
 Lady Drummond does much good at Naples ; 
 for, while the beau monde of that gay capital 
 
150 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 are entertained in a style of profuse hospi- 
 tality at her house, the poor find her charity 
 dispensed with a liberal hand in all their 
 exiofencies ; so that her vast wealth is a source 
 of comfort to others as well as to herself. 
 
 I have been reading Vivian Grey — a very 
 wild, but very clever book, full of genius 
 in its unpruned luxuriance ; the writer revels 
 in all the riches of a brilliant imagination, and 
 expends them prodigally — dazzling, at one mo- 
 ment, by his passionate eloquence, and, at 
 another, by his touching pathos. 
 
 A pleasant dinner-party, yesterday. The 
 Due de Mouchy, the Marquis de Morn ay, 
 Count Flahault, the Count Maussion, Mons. 
 de Montrond, and Mr. Standish, were the 
 guests. Count Flahault is so very agreeable 
 and gentlemanly a man, that no one can 
 call in question the taste of the Baroness 
 Keith in selecting him for her husband. 
 
 Mr. Standish has married a French lady, 
 accomplished, clever, and pretty. Intermar- 
 
PARIS. 151 
 
 riages between French and English are now 
 not unfrequent ; and it is pleasant to observe 
 the French politeness and hon ton ingrafted 
 on English sincerity and good sense. Of 
 this, Mr. Standish offers a very good example ; 
 for, while he has acquired all the Parisian 
 ruse of manner, he has retained all the 
 English good qualities for which he has 
 always been esteemed. 
 
CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 Charles Kemble dined here yesterday, 
 and in the eveninor read to us his daughter 
 Fanny's Tragedy of Francis the First — a 
 very wonderful production for so young a girl. 
 There is considerable vigour in many parts 
 of this work, and several passages in it re- 
 minded me of the old dramatists. The cha- 
 racter of ** Louisa of Savoy " is forcibly drawn 
 — wonderfully so, indeed, when considered as 
 the production of so youthful a person. The 
 constant association with minds deeply imbued 
 with a love of the old writers, must have 
 greatly influenced the taste of Miss Kemble. 
 
 Francis the First bears irrefragable evi- 
 dence that her reading has lain much among 
 the old poets, and that Shakspeare is one 
 
PARIS. / 153 
 
 of her most favourite ones. '* Triboulet," 
 the king's jester, may be instanced as an 
 example of this ; and "Margaret of Valois" 
 furnishes another. " FranQoise de Foix" 
 is a more original conception ; timid, yet 
 fond, sacrificing her honour to save her 
 brother's life, but rendered wretched by re- 
 morse ; and not able to endure the presence 
 of her affianced husband, who, believing her 
 pure and sinless as he left her, appeals to 
 her, when "Gonzales" reveals her shame. 
 
 This same " Gonzales," urged on by ven- 
 geance, and ready to do aught — nay, more 
 than " may become a man," — to seek its 
 gratification, is a boldly drawn character. 
 
 The introduction of the poet " Clement 
 Marot" is no less happy than judicious; and 
 Miss Kemble gives him a very beautiful 
 speech, addressed to his master " Francis the 
 First," in which the charm that reiofns about 
 the presence of a pure woman is so eloquently 
 described, as to have reminded me of the ex- 
 
 H 2 
 
154 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 quisite passage in Comus, although there is 
 not any plagiary in Miss Kemble's speech. 
 
 A poetess herself, she has rendered justice 
 to the character of Clement Marot, whose 
 honest indignation at being employed to bear 
 a letter from the amorous " Francis " to the 
 sister of " Lautree," she has very gracefully 
 painted. 
 
 The "Constable Bourbon" is well drawn, 
 and has some fine speeches assigned to him ; 
 and ** Gonzales" gives a spirited description 
 of the difference between encountering death 
 in the battle - field, surrounded by all the 
 spirit-stirring *^ pomp and circumstance of 
 glorious war," and meeting the grisly tyrant 
 on the scaffold, attended by all the ignominious 
 accessories of a traitor's doom. 
 
 This Tragedy, when given to the public, 
 will establish Miss Kemble's claims to dis- 
 tinction in the literary world, and add another 
 laurel to those acquired by her family. 
 
 There are certain passages in the speeches 
 
PARIS. 155 
 
 of ** Gonzales," that, in my opinion, require to 
 be re^ised, lest they should provoke censures 
 from the fastidious critics of the present time, 
 who are prone to detect evil of which the au- 
 thors, whose works they analyse, are quite un- 
 conscious. Innocence sometimes leads young 
 writers to a freedom of expression from which 
 experienced ones would shrink back in alaiTii ; 
 and the perusal of the old dramatists gives a 
 knowledge of passions, and of sins, known only 
 through their medium, but the skilful develope- 
 ment of which, subjects a female wTiter, and 
 more particularly a youthful one, to ungenerous 
 animadversion. It is to be hoped, that the 
 friends of this gifted girl will so prune the 
 luxuriance of her pen, as to leave nothing to 
 detract from a vrork so creditable to her genius. 
 Charles Kemble rendered ample justice to 
 his daughter's Tragedy by his mode of reading 
 it ; and we counted not the hours devoted 
 to the task. How many reminiscences of the 
 olden time were called up by hearing him! 
 
156 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 I remembered those pleasant evenings when 
 he used to read to us in London, hour after 
 hour, until the timepiece warned us to give 
 over. I remembered, too, John Kemble — " the 
 great John Kemble," ns Lord Guildford used 
 to call him — twice or thrice reading to us 
 with Sir T. Lawrence ; and the tones of 
 Charles Kemble's voice, and the expression 
 of his face, forcibly reminded me of our 
 departed friend. 
 
 I have scarcely met with a more high-bred 
 man, or a more agreeable companion, than 
 Charles Kemble. Indeed, were I called on 
 to name the professional men I have known 
 most distinguished for good breeding and 
 manners, I should name our four tragedians, 
 — the two Kembles, Young, and Macready. 
 
 Sir Francis Burdett dined here yesterday e?i 
 famille, and we passed two very pleasant hours. 
 He related to us many amusing and interesting 
 anecdotes connected with his political life. 
 
 Went to the Opera in the evening, whither 
 
PARIS. 157 
 
 he accompanied us. I like my box very 
 much. It is in the centre of the house, 
 is draped with pale blue silk, and has very 
 comfortable chairs. The Parisians are, I 
 find, as addicted to staring as the English; 
 for many were the glasses levelled last night 
 at Sir Francis Burdett who, totally un- 
 conscious of the attention he excited, was 
 wholly engrossed by the " Count Ory," some 
 of the choruses in which pleased me very 
 much. 
 
 A ^dsit to-dav from our excellent and valued 
 friend. Sir A. Barnard, who has promised to 
 dine with us to-morrow. Paris is now filling 
 very fast, which I regret, as I dislike crowds 
 and havincr mv time broken in upon. 
 
 I become more convinced every day I live, 
 that quiet and repose are the secrets of happi- 
 ness, for I never feel so near an approach to 
 this blessing as when in the possession of them. 
 General society is a hea^y tax on time and 
 patience, and one that I feel every year less 
 
158 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 inclination to pay, as I witness the bad eiFect 
 it produces not only on the habits but on 
 the mind. 
 
 Oh i the weariness of listening for hours to 
 the repetition of past gaieties, or the anticipa- 
 tion of future ones, to the commonplace remarks 
 or stupid conversation of persons whose whole 
 thoughts are engrossed by the frivolous amuse- 
 ments of Paris, which are all and every thing 
 to them! 
 
 How delicious is it to shut out all this 
 weariness, and with a book, or a few rationally 
 minded friends, indulge in an interchange of 
 ideas ! But the too frequent indulgence of this 
 sensible mode of existence exposes one to the 
 sarcasms of the frivolous who are avoided. 
 
 One is deemed a pedant — a terrible charge 
 at Paris! — or a has bleu, which is still worse, 
 however free the individual may be from any 
 pretensions to merit such charges. 
 
 Paid a visit to the justly celebrated Made- 
 moiselle Mars yesterday, at her beautiful , 
 
PARIS. 159 
 
 hotel in the Rue de la Tour des Dames. I 
 have entertained a wish ever since my return 
 from Italy, to become acquainted with this re- 
 markable woman ; and Mr. Young was the 
 medium of accomplishing it. 
 
 Mademoiselle Mars is even more attractive 
 off the stage than on ; for her countenance 
 beams with intelliofence, and her manners 
 are at once so animated, yet gentle ; so kind, 
 vet dioTiified ; and there is such an inex- 
 pressible charm in the tones of her voice, 
 that no one can approach T^dthout being 
 delighted with her. 
 
 Her conversation is hiofhlv interestinof, 
 marked by a good sense and good taste that 
 render her knowledge always available, but 
 never obtrusive. Her features are regular 
 and delicate ; her figure, though inclined 
 to embonpoint, is very graceful; and her 
 smile, like the tones of her voice, is irresist- 
 ibly sweet, and reveals teeth of rare beauty. 
 
 Mademoiselle Mars, off the stage, owes 
 
160 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 none of her attractions to the artful aid 
 of ornament ; wearing her own dark hair 
 simply arranged, and her clear brown com- 
 plexion free from any artificial tinge. In 
 her air and manner is the rare and happy 
 mixture of la grande dame et la femme 
 aimahle, without the slightest shade of affect- 
 ation. 
 
 Mademoiselle Mars* hotel is the prettiest 
 imaginable. It stands in a court yard, wholly 
 shut in from the street; and, though not 
 vast, it has all the elegance, if not the splen- 
 dour, of a fine house. Nothing can evince 
 a purer taste than this dwelling, with its 
 decorations and furniture. It contains all 
 that elegance and comfort can require, with- 
 out any thing meretricious or gaud)^, and is 
 a temple worthy of the goddess to whom it 
 is dedicated. 
 
 It has been well observed, that a just notion 
 of the character of a person can always be 
 formed by the style of his or her dwelling. 
 
PARIS. I6l 
 
 Who can be deceived in the house of a noiiveau 
 riche? Every piece of furniture in it vouches, 
 not only for the wealth of its owner, but that 
 he has not vet o^ot sufficient! v habituated 
 to the possession of it, to be as indifferent 
 to its attributes as are those to whom custom 
 has rendered splendour no longer a pleasure. 
 
 Everv thinof in the house of Mademoiselle 
 Mars bespeaks its mistress to be a woman of 
 hio^hlv cultivated mind and of refined habits. 
 
 The boudoir is in the stvle of Louis XIV., 
 and owes its tasteful decorations to the pencil 
 of Ciceri. The pictures that ornament it 
 are by Gerard, and are highly creditable to 
 his reputation. The library serves also as 
 a picture - gallery ; and in it may be seen 
 beautiful specimens of the talents of the most 
 esteemed French artists, offered by them as 
 a homao^e to this celebrated woman. Gerard, 
 Delacroix, Isabey, Lany, Grevedon, and other 
 distinguished artists, have contributed to this 
 valuable collection. A fine portrait of Madame 
 
l62 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Pasta, and another of Talma, with two exqui- 
 site pictures of the mother of Mademoiselle 
 Mars, not less remarkable for the rare beauty 
 of the subject than for the merit of the artists, 
 complete it. 
 
 One book -case in the libi'ary contains only 
 the presentation copies of the pieces in which 
 Mademoiselle Mars has performed, magnifi- 
 cently bound by the authors. 
 
 On a white marble console in this gallery 
 is placed an interesting memorial of her bril- 
 liant theatrical career, presented to her by the 
 most enthusiastic of its numerous admirers. 
 It consists of a laurel crown, executed in pure 
 gold ; on the leaves of which are engraved on 
 one side, the name of each piece in which she 
 appeared, and, on the other, the i^ole which 
 she acted in it. A very fine statue of 
 Moliere is placed in this apartment. 
 
 Never did two hours glide more rapidly 
 away than those passed in the society of this 
 fascinating woman, whose presence I left pe- 
 
PARIS. 163 
 
 netrated with the conviction that no one can 
 know without admiring her ; and that when 
 she retires from the stage, " we shall not look 
 upon her like again." 
 
 Passed a very agreeable evening, at Madame 
 Craufurd's. Met there La Duchesse de la 
 Force, and the usual circle of habitues. 
 Talking of theatres, some of la Vieille Cour, 
 who happened to be present, remarked on the 
 distinction always made between the female 
 performers of the different ones. Those of 
 the Theatre Fran^ais were styled " Les 
 Dames de la Comedie Frangaise ;^^ those of the 
 Theatre Italien, '* Les Demoiselles du Theatre 
 It alien ;'' and the dancers, '^ Les Filles de 
 r OperaJ^ This last mode of naming les dan- 
 seuses, though in later times considered as a 
 reproach, was, originally, meant as an honour- 
 able distinction ; the king, on establishing 
 the Academie Royale de Musique, having 
 obtained the privilege that the performers 
 attached to it should be exempt from excom- 
 
l64 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 munication. Hence they were named, ^' Les 
 Filles de V Opera,'' as persons sometimes said 
 **X<?6' Filles de la Reined 
 
 A propos of the Opera, Madame Grassini, 
 once no less celebrated for her beauty than 
 for her voice, was of the party last night. 
 She is, and deservedly, a general favom'ite 
 in Parisian society, in which her vivacity, 
 good-nature, and amiability, are duly appre- . 
 ciated. Her lively sallies and naive remarks 
 are very amusing ; and the frankness and sim- 
 plicity she has preserved in a profession and 
 position so calculated to induce the reverse, 
 add to her attractions and give piquancy to 
 her conversation. 
 
 There are moments in which Madame 
 Grassini's countenance becomes lighted up 
 with such animation, that it seems to be in- 
 vested with a considerable portion of the rare 
 beauty for which she was so remarkable. 
 
 Her eyes are still glorious, and, like those 
 only of the sunny South, can flash with Intel- 
 
PARIS. 165 
 
 liofence, or melt with tenderness. It is when 
 conversing' on the OTand roles which she filled 
 
 o o 
 
 as prima donna, that her face lights up as I 
 have noticed, — as the war-horse, when hearing 
 the sound of the trumpet, remembers the scene 
 of his past glory. 
 
 When in Italy, some years since, Madame 
 Grassini's carriage was stopped by brigands, 
 who having compelled her to descend, ran- 
 sacked it and took possession of her splen- 
 did theatrical wardrobe, and her magnificent 
 diamonds. 
 
 She witnessed the robbery with calmness, 
 until she saw the brigands seize the portrait 
 of the Emperor Napoleon, presented to her 
 by his own hand, and set round with large 
 brilliants, when she appealed to them with 
 tears streaminof down her cheeks to take the 
 settings and all the diamonds, but not to 
 deprive her of the portrait of her " dear, dear 
 Emperor ! " When this circumstance was re- 
 ferred to, she told me the story, and her eyes 
 glistened with tears while relating it. 
 
166 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Went to Orsay yesterday, and passed a very 
 agreeable day there. It was a fortified chateau, 
 and must have been a very fine place before 
 the Revolution caused, not only its pillage, but 
 nearly its total destruction, for only one wing 
 of it now remains. 
 
 Built in the reign of Charles VII., it was 
 esteemed one of the best specimens of the 
 feudal chateau fort of that epoch ; and the 
 subterranean portion of it still attests its for- 
 mer strength and magnitude. 
 
 It is surrounded by a moat, not of stagnant 
 water, but supplied by the river Ivette, which 
 flows at the base of the hill on which the 
 chateau stands. The water is clear and brisk ; 
 and the chateau looks as if it stood in a pel- 
 lucid river. The view from the windows is 
 very extensive, commanding a rich and weU- 
 wooded country. 
 
 The chapel escaped not the ravages of the 
 sacrilegious band, who committed such havoc 
 on the chateau ; for the beautiful altar, and 
 some very interesting monuments, were bar- 
 
PARIS. 167 
 
 barously mutilated, and the tomb of the Prin- 
 cesse de Croy, the mother of General Count 
 d'Orsay, on which a vast sum had been ex- 
 pended, was nearly razed to the ground. 
 
 If aught was required to increase my horror 
 of revolutions, and of the baleful consequences to 
 "w^hich they lead, the sight of this once splendid 
 chateau, and, above all, of its half-ruined chapel, 
 in which even the honoured dead were insulted, 
 would have accomplished it. 
 
 An heiress of one of the most ancient houses 
 in the Fays Bas, the Princesse de Croy 
 brought a noble dowry to her husband, himself 
 a man of princely fortune. Young and beau- 
 tiful, her munificence soon rendered her an 
 object of almost adoration to the dependents 
 of her lord : and when soon after havinof 
 given birth to a son and heir, the present 
 General Comte d' Orsay, she was called to 
 another world, her remains were followed to 
 her untimely grave by a long train of weep- 
 ing poor, whose hearts her bounty had often 
 
l68 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 cheered, and whose descendants were subse- 
 quently horror-struck to see the sanctity of 
 her last earthly resting-place invaded. 
 
 We passed through the hamlet of Palaiseau, 
 on our return to Paris ; and saw in it the 
 steeple where the magpie concealed the silver 
 spoons he had stolen, and which occasioned 
 the event from w^hich the drama of La Pie 
 Voleuse, known in so many languages, has 
 had its origin. 
 
 The real story ended not so happily as 
 the opera, for the poor girl was executed — 
 the spoons not having been discovered until 
 after her death. This tragedy in humble 
 life has attached great interest to the steeple 
 at Palaiseau, and has drawn many persons to 
 the secluded hamlet in which it stands. 
 
 The Due and Duchesse de Guiche re- 
 turned from L'uneville yesterday ; and we 
 spent last evening with them. The good 
 Duke de Gramout w^as there, and w^as in 
 great joy at their return. They all dine with 
 
PARIS. 
 
 169 
 
 us to-morrow; and Madame Craufurd comes 
 to meet them. 
 
 Never have I seen such children as the 
 Due de Guiche's. Uniting to the most re- 
 markable personal beauty an intelligence and 
 docility as rare as they are delightful; and 
 never did I witness any thing like the unceasing 
 care and attention bestowed on their education 
 by their parents. 
 
 Those who only know the Due and Du- 
 chesse in the gay circles, in which they are 
 universally esteemed among the brightest or- 
 naments, can form little idea of them in the 
 privacy of their domestic one — emulating each 
 other in their devotion to their children, and 
 giving only the most judicious proofs of their 
 attachment to them. No wonder that the 
 worthy Due de Gramont doats on his grand- 
 children, and never seems so happy as T\ith 
 his excellent son and daughter-in-law. 
 
 Went to theVaudeville Theatre last evening, 
 to see the new piece by Scribe, so much talked 
 
 VOL. I. I 
 
170 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of, entitled Avant, Pendant, et AprSs, There 
 is a fearful vraisembla/nce in some of the scenes 
 with all that one has read or pictured to one- 
 self, as daily occurring during the terrible days 
 of the Revolution ; and the tendency of the 
 production is not, in my opinion, calculated 
 to produce salutary effects. I only wonder it 
 is permitted to be acted. 
 
 The piece is divided, as the title announces, 
 into three different epochs. The first repre- 
 sents the frivolity and vices attributed to the 
 days of Vancien regime, and the tableau des 
 mwurs, which is vividly coloured, leaves no 
 favourable impression in the minds of the 
 audience of that noblesse whose sufi^erings 
 subsequently expiated the errors said to have 
 accelerated, if not to have produced, the 
 Revolution. 
 
 Nothinof is omitted that could cast odium 
 on them, as a preparation for the Reign of 
 Terror that follows. The anarchy and con- 
 fusion of the second epoch — the fear and 
 
PARIS. 171 
 
 horror that prevail when the voices and 
 motions of a sanguinary mob are heard in 
 the streets, and the terrified inmates of the 
 houses are seen crouching in speechless terror, 
 are displayed with wonderful truth. 
 
 The lesson is an awful, and I think a dan- 
 gerous, one, and so seemed to think many 
 of the upper class among the audience, for 
 I saw some fair cheeks turn pale, and some 
 furrowed brows look ominous, as the scene 
 was enacted, while those of the less elevated 
 in rank among the spectators assumed, or 
 seemed to assume, a certain Jierte, if not 
 ferocity, of aspect, at beholding this vivid 
 representation of the triumph achieved by 
 their order over the noblesse. 
 
 It is not wise to exhibit to a people, and 
 above all to so inflammable a people as the 
 French, what tlieu can effect ; and I confess 
 I felt uneasy when I witnessed the deep 
 interest and satisfaction evinced by many in 
 the parterre during the representation. 
 
172 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The Apres, the third epoch, is even more 
 calculated to encourage revolutionary prin- 
 ciples, for in it was displayed the elevation 
 to the highest grades in the army and in the 
 state of those who in the ancien regime would 
 have remained as the Revolution found them, 
 in the most obscure stations, but who by 
 that event had brilliant opportunities afforded 
 for distinguishing themselves. 
 
 Heroic courage, boundless generosity, and 
 devoted patriotism, are liberally bestowed on 
 the actors who figure in this last portion of 
 the drama ; and, as these qualities are known 
 to have appertained to many of those who 
 really filled the roles enacted at the period 
 now represented, the scene had, as might be 
 expected, a powerful effect on a people so 
 impressible as the French, and so liable to be 
 hurried into enthusiasm by aught that appeals 
 to their imaginations. 
 
 The applause was deafening ; and I venture 
 to say, that those from whom it proceeded 
 
PARIS. 173 
 
 left the theatre with a conviction that a revo- 
 lution was a certain means of achieving glory 
 and fortune to those who, with all the self- 
 imagined qualities to merit both, had not been 
 born to either. 
 
 Every Frenchman in the middle or lower 
 class believes himself capable of arriving at 
 the highest honours. This belief sometimes 
 half accomplishes the destiny it imagines ; 
 but even when it fails to effect this, it ever 
 operates in rendering Frenchmen peculiarly 
 liable to rush into anv chano^e or measure 
 likely to lead to even a chance of distinction. 
 
 As during the performance of Avant, Pen- 
 dant^ et Apres, my eye glanced on the faces 
 of some of the emigi'ant noblesse, restored 
 to France by the entry of the Bourbons, I 
 marked the changes produced on their counte- 
 nances bv it. Anxietv, mino^led with dismav, 
 was visible, for the scenes of the past were 
 vividly recalled, while a vague di'ead of the 
 future was instilled. Yes, the representation 
 
174< THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of this piece is a dangerous experiment, and 
 so I fear it will turn out. 
 
 I am sometimes amused, but more fre- 
 quently irritated, by observing the mceurs 
 Pan'slennes, particularly in the shop-keepers. 
 The airs of self-complacency, amounting al- 
 most to impertinence, practised by this class, 
 cannot fail to surprise persons accustomed to 
 the civility and assiduity of those in London, 
 who, whether the purchases made in their 
 shops be large or small, evince an equal 
 politeness to the buyers. 
 
 In Paris, the tradesman assumes the ris^ht 
 of dictating to the taste of his customers ; 
 in London, he only administers to it. Enter 
 a Parisian shop, and ask to be shewn velvet, 
 silk, or riband, to assort with a pattern you 
 have brought of some particular colour or 
 quality, and the mercer, having glanced at 
 it somewhat contemptuously, places before 
 you six or eight pieces of a different tint 
 and texture. 
 
PARIS. 175 
 
 You tell him that they are not similar to 
 the pattern, and he answers, "That may be; 
 nevertheless, his goods are of the newest 
 fashion, and infinitely superior to your model." 
 You say, " You prefer the colour of your pattern, 
 and must match it." He produces half-a- 
 dozen pieces still more unlike what you 
 require ; and to your renew^ed assertion that 
 no colour but the one similar to your pattern 
 will suit you, he assures you, that his goods 
 are superior to all others, and that what you 
 require is out of fashion, and a very bad 
 article, and, consequently, that you had much 
 better abandon your taste and adopt his. 
 This counsel is given without any attempt 
 at concealing the contempt the giver of it 
 entertains for your opinion, and the perfect 
 satisfaction he indulges for his own. 
 
 You once more ask, " If he has got nothing 
 to match the colour you require?" and he 
 shruDfs his shoulders and answers, " Pourtant^ 
 madame, what I have shewn vou is much 
 
176 THE IDLER IN FRANCE, 
 
 superior." " Very possible ; but no colour will 
 suit me but this one," holding up the pattern ; 
 *' for I want to replace a breadth of a new 
 dress to which an accident has occurred." 
 
 " Pourtanty madame, my colours are pre- 
 cisely the same, but the quality of the materials 
 is infinitely better ! " and with this answer, after 
 having lost half an hour— if not double that 
 time — you are compelled to be satisfied, and 
 leave the shop, its owner looking as if he 
 considered you a person of decidedly bad 
 taste, and very troublesome into the bargain. 
 
 Similar treatment awaits you in every shop; 
 the owners having, as it appears to me, 
 decided on shewing you only what they ap- 
 prove, and not what you seek. The women 
 of high rank in France seldom, if ever, enter 
 any shop except that of Herbault, who is 
 esteemed the modiste, par- excellence, of Paris, 
 and it is to this habit, probably, that the 
 want of hienseance so visible in Parisian 
 houtiquiers, is to be attributed. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 An agreeable party dined here yesterday — 
 Lord Stuart de Rothesay, our Ambassador, 
 the Due and Duchesse de Guiche, the Due 
 de Mouchy, Sir Francis Burdett, and Count 
 Charles de Mornay. Lord Stuart de' Rothe- 
 say is very popular at Paris, as is also our 
 Ambassadress; a proof that, in addition to a 
 vast fund of good -nature, no inconsiderable 
 portion of tact is conjoined — to please English 
 and French too, which thev certainly do, re- 
 quires no little degree of the rare talent of 
 savoir vivre. 
 
 To a profound knowledge of French society 
 and its peculiarities, a knowledge not easily 
 acquired. Lord and Lady Stuart de Rothesay 
 add the happy art of adopting all that is 
 
 I 2 
 
178 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 agreeable in its usages, without sacrificing 
 any of the stateliness so essential in the 
 representatives of our more grave and re- 
 flecting: nation. 
 
 Among the peculiarities that most strike 
 one in French people, are the good-breeding 
 with which they listen, without even a smile, 
 to the almost incomprehensible attempts at 
 speaking French made by many strangers, 
 and the quickness of apprehension with which 
 they seize their meaning, and assist them 
 in rendering the sense complete. 
 
 I have seen innumerable proofs of this 
 politeness — a politeness so little understood, 
 or at least so little practised, among the 
 English, that mistakes perfectly ludicrous, and 
 which could not have failed to set my com- 
 patriots in a titter, if not in a roar, have not 
 produced the movement of a single risible 
 muscle, and yet the French are more prone 
 to gaiety than are the English. 
 
 Mr. D and Mr. T dined here 
 
PARIS. 179 
 
 yesterday. The former, mild, gentlemanlike, 
 and unostentatious, seems to forget what so 
 many would, if similarly situated, remember 
 with arrogance, namely, that he is immensely 
 rich ; an obliviousness that, in my opinion, 
 greatly enhances his other merits. 
 
 Mr. T is little changed since I last 
 
 saw him, and is well-informed, clever, and 
 agreeable, — but his ot^ti too-evident conscious- 
 ness of possessing these recommendations pre- 
 vents other people from according him due 
 merit for them. 
 
 In society, one who believes himself clever 
 must become a hypocrite, and so conceal all 
 knowledge of his self - complacency, if he 
 wishes to avoid being unpopular ; for wo 
 be to him who lets the world see he thinks 
 hiofhlv of himself, however his abilities mav 
 justify his self-approval. 
 
 The sio^ht of Mr. T recalled his amiable 
 
 and excellent mother to my memory. I 
 never esteemed any woman more highly or 
 
180 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 enjoyed the society of any other person more 
 than hers. How many pleasant hours have I 
 passed with her! I so well remember John 
 Kemble fancying that if I went . through a 
 course of reading Shakspeare with his sister 
 
 Mrs. T , I should make, as he said, a 
 
 fine actress ; and we w^ere to get up private 
 theatricals at Mountjoy Forest. 
 
 In compliance with the request of Lord 
 Blessington, I studied Shakspeare with this 
 amiable and gifted woman for many months, 
 which cemented a friendship between us that 
 ended but with her life. Her method of 
 reading was admirable ; for to the grandeur 
 of her sister Mrs. Siddons, she united a 
 tenderness and softness, in which that great 
 actress was said to be deficient. I never 
 open any of the plays of Shakspeare which I 
 studied with her without thinking I hear 
 her voice, and I like them better for the 
 association. 
 
 To great personal attractions, which even 
 
PARIS. 181 
 
 to the last she retained enough of to give 
 a notion of what her beauty must have been 
 
 in her youth, Mrs. T added a charm 
 
 of manners, a cultivation of mind, and a 
 goodness of heart seldom surpassed ; and, in 
 all the relations of life, her conduct was 
 most praiseworthy. Even now, though six 
 years have elapsed since her death, the re- 
 collection of it brings tears to my eyes. Good 
 and gentle woman, may your virtues on 
 earth find their reward in Heaven ! 
 
 I passed last evening at Madame Craufurd's, 
 where I met Lady Charlotte Lindsay and 
 the Misses Berry. How perfectly they an- 
 swered to the description given of them by 
 Sir William Gell ; who, though exceedingly 
 attached to all three, has not, as far as one 
 interview permitted me to judge, overrated 
 their agreeability ! Sir William Gell has 
 read me many letters from these ladies, re- 
 plete with talent, of which their conversation 
 reminded me. 
 
 Francis Hare and his wife dined here 
 
182 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 to-day. They are en route from Germany — 
 where they have heen sojourning since their 
 marriage — for England, where her accouche- 
 ment is to take place. Francis Hare has 
 lived with us so much in Italy, that we 
 almost consider him a member of the domes- 
 tic circle ; and, on the faith of this, he ex- 
 pressed his desire that we should receive 
 madame son epouse as if she were an old 
 acquaintance. 
 
 Mrs. Hare is well-looking and agreeable, ap- 
 pears amiable, and is a good musician. I re- 
 member seeinfif her and her sisters with her 
 mother. Lady Paul, at Florence, when I had 
 little notion that she was to be Mrs. Hare. I 
 never meet Francis Hare without being sur- 
 prised by the versatility of his information: 
 it extends to the fine arts, literature, rare 
 books, the localities of pictures and statues ; 
 in short, he is a moving library that may 
 always be consulted with profit, and his 
 memory is as accurate as an index in ren- 
 dering its precious stores available. 
 
PARIS. 183 
 
 It is strange, that the prominent taste of 
 his wife, which is for music, is the only one 
 denied to him. He afforded an amusing 
 instance of this fact last ni"ht, when Mrs. 
 Hare, having performed several airs on the 
 piano-forte, he asked her, *' Why she played 
 the same tune so often, for the monotony 
 was tiresome?" — an observation that set us 
 all lauo^hinof. 
 
 Took Mrs. Hare out shopping — saw piles 
 of lace, heaps of silk, pyramids of riband, 
 and all other female gear. What a multi- 
 plicity of pretty things we women require 
 to render us what we consider presentable ! 
 And how few of us, however good-looking 
 we may chance to be, would agree with the 
 poet, that "loveliness needs not the foreign 
 aid of ornament, but is, when unadorned, 
 adorned the most." 
 
 Even the fairest of the sex like to enhance 
 the charms of nature by the aid of dress ; 
 and the plainest hope to become less so by 
 
184 THE IDLER IN PARIS. 
 
 its assistance. Men are never sufficiently 
 sensible of our humility, in considering it 
 so necessary to increase our attractions in 
 order to please them, nor grateful enough 
 for the pains we bestow in the attempts. 
 
 Husbands and fathers are particularly in- 
 sensible to this amiable desire on the parts 
 of their wives and daughters ; and, when 
 asked to pay the heavy bills incurred in 
 consequence of this praiseworthy humility, 
 and desire to please, evince any feeling 
 rather than that of satisfaction. 
 
 It is only admirers not called on to pay 
 these said bills who duly appreciate the 
 cause and effect, and who can hear of women 
 passing whole hours in tempting shops, with- 
 out that elongation of countenance peculiar 
 to husbands and fathers. 
 
 I could not help thinking with the phi- 
 losopher, how many things I saw to-day that 
 could be done without. If women could be 
 made to understand that costliness of attire 
 
PARIS. 185 
 
 seldom adds to beauty, and often deteriorates 
 it, a great amelioration in expense could be 
 accomplished. 
 
 Transparent muslin, the cheapest of all 
 materials, is one of the prettiest, too, for 
 summer's wear, and with the addition of 
 some bows of delicate - coloured riband^ or 
 a bouquet of fi'esh flowers, forms a most 
 becoming dress. The lowness of the price 
 of such a robe enables the purchaser to have 
 so frequent a change of it, that even those who 
 are far from rich may have half-a-dozen, while 
 one single robe of a more expensive material 
 will cost more 5 and ha^dng done so, the owner 
 will think it right to wear it more frequently 
 than is consistent with the freshness and 
 purity that should ever be the distinguishing 
 characteristics in female dress, in order to 
 indemnify herself for the expense. 
 
 I was never more struck with this fact, 
 than a short time mo, when I saw two ladies 
 seated next each other, both voun^ and 
 
186 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 handsome ; but one, owing to the freshness 
 of her robe, which was of simple organdie, 
 looked infinitely better than the other, who 
 was quite as pretty, but who, w^earing a robe 
 of expensive lace, whose whiteness had fallen 
 into " the sere and yellow leaf," appeared 
 faded and passee. 
 
 Be wise, then, ye young and fair ; and if, 
 as I suspect, your object be to please the 
 Lords of the Creation, let your dress, in 
 summer, be snowy -white muslin, never worn 
 after its pristine purity becomes problemat- 
 ical ; and in winter, let some half- dozen 
 plain and simple silk gowns be purchased, 
 instead of the two or three expensive ones 
 that generally form the wardrobe, and which, 
 consequently, soon not only lose their lustre 
 but give the wearer the appearance of having 
 suffered the same fate I 
 
 And you, O husbands and fathers, present 
 and future, be ye duly impressed with a sense 
 of your manifold obligations to me for thus 
 
PARIS. 187 
 
 opening the eyes of your wives and daughters 
 how to please without draining your purses ; 
 and w^hen the maledictions of lace, velvet, 
 and satin - sellers fall on my hapless head, 
 for counsel so injurious to their interests, 
 remember they were incurred for yours ! 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hare dined here yesterday. 
 They brought with them Madame de la 
 
 H , who came up from near Chantilly 
 
 to see them. She is as pretty as I remember 
 
 her at Florence, when Mademoiselle D 
 
 and is piquante and spirituelle. Counts 
 Charles de Mornay and Valeski formed the 
 party, and Count Maussion and some others 
 came in the evening. 
 
 I observe that few English shine in con- 
 versation with the French. There is a light- 
 ness and brilliancy, a sort of touch and go, if 
 I may say so, in the latter, seldom, if ever, to 
 be acquired by strangers. Never dwelling 
 long on any subject, and rarely entering pro- 
 foundlv into it, they sparkle on the surface 
 
188 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 with great dexterity, bringing wit, gaiety, and 
 tact, into play. 
 
 Like summer lightning, French wit flashes 
 frequently, brightly and innocuously, leaving 
 nothing disagreeable to remind one of its having 
 appeared. Conversation is, with the French, 
 the aim and object of society. All enter it 
 prepared to take a part, and he best enacts it 
 who displays just enough knowledge to show 
 that much remains behind. Such is the tact 
 of the Parisians, that even the ignorant con- 
 ceal the poverty of their minds, and might, to 
 casual observers, pass as being in no way de- 
 ficient, owinof to the address with which -fehev 
 glide in an a propos oui, ou 7ion, and an ap- 
 propriate shake of the head, nod of assent, or 
 dissent. 
 
 The constitutional vivacity of the French 
 depending much on their mercurial tempera- 
 ments, greatly aids them in conversation. A 
 light and playful sally acquires additional 
 merit when uttered with gaiety; and should 
 
PARIS. 189 
 
 a hon mot even contain something calculated 
 to pique any one present, or reflect on the 
 absent, the mode in which it is uttered takes 
 ofi* from the force of the matter ; whereas, on 
 the contrary, the more grave and sententious 
 manner peculiar to the English adds pun- 
 gency to their satire. 
 
 Our old and valued friend, Mr. J. Strang- 
 ways, has arrived at Paris, and very glad w^ere 
 we to see him once more. He passed through 
 a severe trial since last we parted ; and his 
 conduct under it towards his poor fi^end, 
 Mr. Anson, does him credit. 
 
 The two companions — one the brother of 
 the Earl of Ilchester, and the other of Lord 
 Anson — were travelling in Syria together. 
 They had passed through Aleppo, where the 
 plague had then appeared, and were at the 
 distance of several days' journey from it, con- 
 gratulating themselves on their safety, when, 
 owing to some error on the part of those who 
 examined their firman, they were compelled 
 
190 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 to retrace their steps to Aleppo, where, con- 
 demned to become the inhabitants of a lazaretto 
 until the imagined mistake could be corrected, 
 they found themselves tete-a-tete. 
 
 The first two or three days passed without 
 any thing to alarm the friends. Engaged in 
 drawing maps for their intended route, and 
 plans for the future, the hours glided away 
 even cheerfully. 
 
 But this cheerfulness was not long to con- 
 tinue ; for Mr. Anson, having one morning 
 asked Mr. Strano^wavs to hold the end of 
 his shawl while he twisted it round his head 
 as a turban, the latter observed, with a degree 
 of horror and dismay more easily to be im- 
 agined than described, the fatal plague-spot 
 clearly defined on the back of the neck of his 
 unfortunate friend. 
 
 He concealed his emotion, well knowing 
 that a suspicion of its cause would add to the 
 danger of Mr. Anson, who, as yet, w^as uncon- 
 scious of the fearful malady that had already 
 
PARIS. 191 
 
 assailed him. Totally alone, without aid, save 
 that contained in their own verv limited re- 
 sources, what must have heen the feelings of 
 Mr. Strangways, as he contemplated his luck- 
 less companion ? 
 
 He dreaded to hear the announcement of 
 phvsical suffering, though he well knew it 
 must soon come, and marked with indescrib- 
 ahle anguish the change that rapidly began 
 to be manifested in his friend. But even this 
 most terrible of all maladies was influenced 
 by the gallant spirit of him on whom it was 
 now preying ; for not a complaint, not a mur- 
 mur, broke from his lips : and it was not until 
 Mr. Strangways had repeatedly urged the 
 most affectionate inquiries that he admitted 
 he was not quite well. 
 
 Delirium quickly followed ; but even then 
 this noble-minded young man bore up against 
 the fearful assaults of disease, and thought 
 and spoke only of those dear and absent 
 friends he was doomed never again to behold. 
 
192 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 It was a dreadful trial to Mr. Strangways to 
 sit by the bed of death, far, far away from 
 home and friends, endeavouring to cool the 
 burning brow and to refresh the parched lips 
 of him so fondly loved in that distant land 
 of which he raved. 
 
 He spoke of his home, of those who made 
 it so dear to him, and even the songs of in- 
 fancy were again murmured by the dying lips. 
 His friend quitted him not for a minute until 
 all was over ; and he was left indeed alone to 
 watch over the corpse of him whom he had 
 tried in vain to save. 
 
 That Mr. Strangways should have escaped 
 the contagion, seems little less than miraculous. 
 I, who have known him so long and so well, 
 attribute it to the state of his mind, which was 
 so wholly occupied by anxiety for his friend 
 as to leave no room for any thought of self. 
 
 Made no entry in my journal for two days, 
 owing to a slight indisposition, which furnished 
 an excuse for laziness. ^ 
 
PARIS. 193 
 
 Dined at Lointier's yesterday — a splendid 
 repast given by Count A. De Maussion, in 
 consequence of a wager, lost on a subject 
 connected with the fine arts. The party con- 
 sisted of all those present at our house when 
 the waoer was made. The Due and Duchesse 
 de Guiche, ]Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hare, the 
 Due de Talleyrand, Due de Dino, Count 
 Valeski, Mr. J. Strangways, and our own 
 large family circle. 
 
 The dinner was the most reel ler die that 
 could be furnished : " all the delicacies of 
 the season," as a London paper would term 
 it, were provided ; and an epicure, however 
 fastidious, would have been satisfied with the 
 choice and variety of the plats ; while a gour- 
 mand would haye luxuriated in the quantity. 
 
 Nothing in the style of the apartments, or the 
 service of the dinner, bore the least indication 
 that we were in the house of a restaurant, 
 
 A larofe and richly furnished salon, well 
 lighted, received the company before dinner ; 
 
 VOL. I. K 
 
194 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and in a salle a manger of equal dimensions, 
 and equally well arranged, the dinner was 
 served on a very fine service of old plate. 
 
 Count de Maussion did the honours of the 
 dinner a merveille, and it passed off very 
 gaily. It had been previously agreed that the 
 whole party were to adjourn to the Porte St. 
 Martin, at which Count de Maussion had en- 
 gaged three large private boxes ; and the ladies, 
 consequently, with one exception, came en 
 demie toilette. 
 
 The exception was Mrs. Hare, who, not 
 aware that at Paris people never go en grande 
 toilette to the theatres, came so smartly 
 dressed, that, seeing our simple toilettes, she 
 was afraid of incurring observation if she 
 presented herself in a rich dress with short 
 sleeves, a gold tissue turban with a bird-of- 
 paradise plume, and an aigrette of coloured 
 stones : so she went to our house, with a few 
 of the party, while I accompanied the rest to 
 the theatre. 
 
PARIS. 195 
 
 The piece was Fausf^ adapted from Goethe, 
 and was admirahly performed, more especially 
 the parts of "Mephistopheles" and " ]\Iar- 
 o'aret," in which Madame Dorval acts inimit- 
 ably. This actress has great merit ; and the 
 earnestness of her manner, and the touching 
 tones of her voice, give a great air of truth 
 to her performances. The prison-scene was 
 powerfully acted; and the madness of " Mar- 
 ofaret " when stretched on her bed of straw, 
 resistinof the vain efforts of her lover to rescue 
 her, had a fearful reality. 
 
 The character of " Margaret " is a fine 
 conception, and Goethe has wrought it out 
 beautifully. The simplicity, gentleness, and 
 warm feelinos of the villac^e maiden, excite a 
 stronof interest for her, even when worked 
 upon by Vanity ; that alloy which, alas for 
 Woman's virtue and happiness! is too fre- 
 quently found mixed up in the pure ore of 
 her nature. 
 
 The childish delight with which poor 
 
196 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " Margaret " contemplates the trinkets pre- 
 sented by her lover; the baleful ascendancy 
 acquired over her by her female companion ; 
 and her rapid descent in the path of evil when, 
 as is ever the case, the commission of one sin 
 entails so many, render this drama a very 
 effective moral lesson. 
 
 Of all Goethe*s works, Faust is the one I 
 most like ; and, of all his female characters, 
 " Margaret " is that which I prefer. A fine 
 vein of philosophy runs through the whole of 
 this production, in which the vanity of human 
 knowledge without goodness was never more 
 powerfully exemplified. 
 
 ** Faust," tempted by the desire of acquiring 
 forbidden knowledge, yields up his soul to the 
 evil one ; yet still retains enough of the hu- 
 manity of his nature to render him wretched, 
 when her he loves, and has drawn ruin on, 
 suffers the penalty of his crime and of 
 her love. 
 
 Exquisitely has Goethe wrought out the 
 
PARIS. 197 
 
 effects of the all-engrossing passion of the poor 
 '* Margaret" — a passion that, even in mad- 
 ness, still clings to its object with all woman's 
 tenderness and devotion, investing even in- 
 sanity with the touching charm of love. How 
 perfect is the part when, endeavouring to pray, 
 the hapless "Margaret" fancies that she hears 
 the gibbering of evil spirits interrupting her 
 supplications, so that even the consolation of 
 addressing the Divinity is denied her! 
 
 But the last scene — that in the prison — 
 is the most powerful of all. Never was mad- 
 ness more touchingly delineated, or woman's 
 nature more truly developed ; — that nature 
 so little understood by those who are so prone 
 to pervert it, and whose triumphs over its 
 virtues are always achieved by means of the 
 excess of that propensity to love, and to 
 believe in the truth of the object beloved, 
 which is one of the most beautiful character- 
 istics in woman; though, wo to her! it is but 
 too often used to her undoing. 
 
198 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The feelings of poor "Margaret" are those 
 of all her sex, ere vice has sullied the nature 
 it never can wholly subdue. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hare left Paris to-day. I 
 regret their departure ; for she is lively and 
 agreeable, and I have known him so long, 
 and like him so well, that their society 
 afforded me pleasure. 
 
 A large party at dinner, yesterday ; among 
 
 whom was Mr. M , who has acquired a 
 
 certain celebrity for his bon mots. He is 
 said to be decidedly clever, and to know the 
 world thoroughly ; appreciating it at its just 
 value, and using it as if formed for his peculiar 
 profit and pleasure. He is lately returned 
 from England, where he has been received 
 with that hospitality that characterises the 
 English, and has gone a round of visits to 
 many of the best houses. 
 
 He spoke in high terms of the hospitality 
 he had experienced, but agreed in the opinion 
 I have often heard Lord Byron give, that the 
 
PARIS. 199 
 
 society in English country-houses is any thing 
 but agreeable. 
 
 I had heard so much of Mr. M , that I 
 
 listened to his conversation with more interest 
 than I might have done, had not so many 
 reports of his shrewdness and wit reached me. 
 Neither seem to have been overrated ; for 
 nothing escapes his quick perception ; and 
 his caustic T\it is unsparingly and fearlessly 
 applied to all subjects and persons that excite 
 it into action. 
 
 He appears to be a privileged person — an 
 anomalv seldom innoxiously permitted in so- 
 cietv : for those who may say all they please, 
 rarelv abstain from saying much that may dis- 
 please others ; and, though a laugh may be 
 often excited by their wit, some one of the 
 circle is sure to be wounded by it. 
 
 Great wit is not often allied to good-nature, 
 for the indulo^ence of the first is destructive to 
 the existence of the second, except where the 
 wit is tempered by a more than ordinary share 
 
200 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of sensibility and refinement, directing its ex- 
 ercise towards works of imagination, instead 
 of playing it off, as is too frequently the case, 
 against those with whom its owner may come 
 in contact. 
 
 Byron, had he not been a poet, would have 
 become a wit in society ; and, instead of de- 
 lighting his readers, would have wounded his 
 associates. Luckily for others, as well as for 
 his own fame, he devoted to literature that 
 ready and brilliant wit which sparkles in so 
 many of his pages, instead of condescending to 
 expend it in hon mots, or repartees, that might 
 have set the table on a roar, and have been 
 afterwards, as often occurs, mutilated in being 
 repeated by others. 
 
 The quickness of apprehension peculiar to 
 the French, joined to the excessive amour 
 propre, which is one of the most striking of 
 their characteristics, render them exceedingly 
 susceptible to the arrows of wit ; which, when 
 barbed by ridicule, inflict wounds on their 
 
PARIS. 201 
 
 vanity difficult to be healed, and which they 
 are ever ready to avenge. 
 
 But this very acuteness of apprehension in- 
 duces a caution in not resenting the assaults 
 of wit, unless the wounded can retort with 
 success by a similar weapon, or that the attack 
 has been so obvious that he is justified in re- 
 senting it by a less poetical one. Hence arises 
 a difficult position for him on whom a wit is 
 pleased to exercise his talent ; and this is one 
 of the many reasons why privileged persons 
 seldom add much to the harmony of society. 
 
 Went last night to the Porte St. Martin, 
 and saw Sept Heures represented. This piece 
 has excited a considerable sensation at Paris ; 
 and the part of the heroine, ** Charlotte Cor- 
 day," being enacted by Madame Dorval, a very 
 clever actress, it is very popular. 
 
 ''Charlotte Corday" is represented in the 
 piece, not as a heroine actuated purely by 
 patriotic motives in seeking the destruction 
 
 of a tyrant who inflicted such wounds on her 
 
 K 2 
 
Q02 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 country, but by tbe less sublime one of aveng- 
 ing the death of her lover. This, in my 
 opinion, lessens the interest of the drama, and 
 atones not for the horror always inspired by a 
 woman's arming herself for a scene of blood. 
 
 The taste of the Parisians has, I think, 
 greatly degenerated, both in their light litera- 
 ture and their dramas. The desire for ex- 
 citement, and not a decrease of talent, is the 
 cause ; and this morbid craving for it will, 
 I fear, lead to injurious consequences, not only 
 in literature, but in other and graver things. 
 
 The schoolmaster is, indeed, abroad in 
 France, and has in all parts of it found apt 
 scholars — perhaps, too apt; and, like all such, 
 the digestion of what is acquired does not 
 equal the appetite for acquisition : conse- 
 quently, the knowledge gained is as yet some- 
 what crude and unavailable. Nevertheless, 
 the people are making rapid strides in im- 
 provement ; and ignorance will soon be more 
 rare than knowledge formerly was. 
 
PARIS. 203 
 
 At present, their minds are somewhat mi- 
 settled by the recentness of their progress ; 
 and in the exuberance consequent on such a 
 state, some danger is to be apprehended. 
 
 Like a room from which light has been 
 long excluded, and in w^hich a large window 
 is opened, all the disagreeable objects in it so 
 lono; shrouded in darkness are so fullv re- 
 vealed, that the owner, becoming impatient to 
 remove them and substitute others in their 
 place, often does so at the expense of appro- 
 priateness, and crowds the chamber with a 
 heterogeneous melange of furniture, which, 
 however useful in separate parts, are too incon- 
 gruous to produce a good effect. So the minds 
 of the French people are now too enlightened 
 any longer to suffer the prejudices that for- 
 merly filled them to remain, and have, in their 
 impatience, stored them with new ideas and 
 opinions — many of them good and useful, but 
 too hastily adopted, and not in harmony with 
 each other to be productive of a good result, 
 
204 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 until time has enabled their owners to class 
 and arrange them. 
 
 I am every day more forcibly struck with 
 the natural quickness and intelligence of the 
 people here : but this very quickness is a 
 cause that may tend to retard their progress 
 in knowledge, by inducing them to jump at 
 conclusions, instead of marching slowly but 
 steadily to them ; and conclusions so rapidly 
 made are apt to be as hastily acted upon, and, 
 consequently, occasion errors that take some 
 time to be discovered, and still more to be 
 corrected, before the truth is attained. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Made the acquaintance of the celebrated 
 
 Dr. P , to-day, at Madame C 's. He 
 
 is a very interesting old man ; and, though 
 infirm in body, his mind is as fresh, and his 
 vivacity as unimpaired, as if he had not 
 numbered forty instead of eighty summers. 
 
 I am partial to the society of clever medical 
 men, for the opportunities afibrded them of 
 becoming acquainted with human nature, \by 
 studying it under all the phases of illness, 
 convalescence, and on the bed of death, when 
 the real character is exposed unveiled from 
 the motives that so often shadow, if not give 
 it a false character, in the days of health, 
 render their conversation verv interestinor. 
 
 I have observed, too, that the knowledge of 
 human nature thus attained neither hardens 
 
4 
 
 Q06 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the heart nor blunts the sensibility, for some 
 of the most kind-natured men I ever knew 
 were also the most skilful physicians and 
 admirable surgeons. Among these is Mr. 
 Guthrie, of London, whose rare dexterity in 
 his art I have often thought may be in a great 
 degree attributed to this very kindness of 
 nature, which has induced him to bestow a 
 more than usual attention to acquiring it, in 
 order to abridge the sufferings of his patients. 
 
 In operations on the eye, in which he has 
 gained such a justly merited celebrity, I have 
 been told by those from whose eyes he had 
 removed cataracts, that his precision and 
 celerity are so extraordinary as to appear to 
 them little short of miraculous. 
 
 Talking on this subject with Dr. P to- 
 day, he observed, that he considered strength 
 of mind and kindness of heart indispensable % 
 requisites to form a surgeon ; and that it was 
 a mistake to suppose that these qualities had 
 any other than a salutary influence over the 
 nerves of a surgeon. 
 
PARIS. 207 
 
 " It braces them, Madame,''^ said he j " for 
 pity towards the patient induces an operator 
 to perform his difficult task con amove, in 
 order to relieve him." 
 
 Dr. P has nearly lost his voice, and 
 
 speaks in a low but distinct whisper. Tall 
 and thin, with a face pale as marble, but full 
 of intelligence, he looks, when bending on his 
 gold -headed cane, the very heau ideal of 
 a physician of la Vieille Cour, and he still 
 retains the costume of that epoch. His 
 manner, half jest and half earnest, gives an 
 idea of what that of the Philosopher of Fernev 
 must have been when in a good humour, and 
 adds piquancy to his narrations. Madame 
 
 C , who is an especial favourite of his, and 
 
 who can draw him out in conversation better 
 than any one else, in paying him a delicate 
 and well-timed compliment on his celebritv, 
 added, that few had ever so well merited it. 
 *' Ah ! Madame, celebrity is not always 
 accorded to real merit," said he, smilino". 
 
<208 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " I have before told Madame that mme 
 — if I may be permitted to recur to it 
 — was gained by an artifice I had recourse to, 
 and without which, I firmly believe I should 
 have remained unknown." 
 
 " No, no ! my dear doctor," replied Madame 
 
 C ; "your merit must have, in time, 
 
 acquired you the great fame you enjoy." The 
 Doctor laughed heartily, but persisted in deny- 
 ing this ; and the lady urged him to relate to 
 me the plan he had so successfully pursued in 
 abridging his road to Fortune. He seemed 
 flattered by her request, and by my desire for 
 his compliance with it, and commenced as 
 follows : — 
 
 " I came from the country, Mesdames, 
 with no inconsiderable claims to distinction 
 in my profession. I had studied it con amoi^e, 
 and, urged by the desire that continually 
 haunted me of becoming a benefactor to 
 mankind — ay ! ladies, and still more anxious 
 to relieve your fair and gentle sex from 
 
PARIS. 209 
 
 those ills to which the delicacy of your 
 frames and the sensibility of your minds 
 so peculiarly expose you — I came to Paris 
 with little money and few friends, and those 
 few possessed no power to forward my 
 interests. 
 
 " It is true they recommended me to such 
 of their acquaintance as needed adnce ; but 
 whether, owing to the season being a peculiarly 
 healthy one, or that the acquaintances of my 
 fi'iends enjoyed an unusual portion of good 
 health, I was seldom called on to attend 
 them; and, when I was, the remuneration 
 offered was proportioned, not to the relief 
 afforded, but to the want of fame of him 
 who lent it. 
 
 '* My purse diminished eyen more rapidly 
 than my hopes, though they, too, began to 
 fade; and it was with a heayy heart that I 
 took my pen to T\Tite home to those dear 
 friends who belieyed that Paris was a second 
 
210 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 El Dorado, where all who sought — must 
 find — Fortune. 
 
 *' At length, when one night stretched on 
 my humhle bed, and sleepless from the cares 
 that pressed heavily on my mind, it occurred 
 to me that I must put some plan into action 
 for getting myself known; and one suggested 
 itself, which I next day adopted. 
 
 " I chanfyed one of the few remaining- 
 louis d^or in my pui'se, and, sallpng forth 
 into one of the most popular streets, I wrote 
 down the addresses of some of the most 
 respectable -looking houses, and going up to 
 a porter, desired him to knock at the doors 
 named, and inquire if the celebrated Doctor 
 P was there, as his presence was imme- 
 diately required at the hotel of the Due de . 
 
 " I despatched no less than twenty mes- 
 senf:cers throuoh the different streets on the 
 same errand, and having succeeded in per- 
 suading each that it was of the utmost im- 
 
PARIS. 
 
 211 
 
 portance that the celebrated Doctor P 
 
 should be found, they persuaded the owners 
 of the houses of the same necessity. 
 
 " I persevered in this system for a few 
 days, and then tried its efficacy at night, 
 thinking that, when knocked up from their 
 beds, people would be sure to be more im- 
 pressed with the importance of a doctor in 
 such general request. 
 
 '* My scheme succeeded. In a few^ days, 
 I was repeatedly called in by various patients, 
 and liberal fees poured into the purse of the 
 
 celebrated Dr. P . Unfortunately my 
 
 practice, although every day multiplying even 
 beyond my most sanguine hopes, was entirely 
 confined to the bourgeoisie; and though they 
 paid well, my ambition pointed to higher 
 game, and I longed to feel the pulses of 
 la haute noblesse, and to ascertain if the fine 
 porcelain of which I had heard they were 
 formed was indeed as much superior to the 
 
212 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 delf of which the bourgeoisie are said to 
 be manufactured, as I was led to believe. 
 
 *' Luckily for me, the femme de chamhre 
 of a grand lady fancied herself ill, mentioned 
 the fancy to her friend, who was one of my 
 patients, and who instantly advised her to 
 
 consult the celebrated Dr. P , adding 
 
 a lively account of the extent of my practice 
 and the great request I was in. 
 
 " The femme de cliambre consulted me, 
 described symptoms enough to baffle all the 
 schools of medicine in France, so various and 
 contradictory were they; and I, discovering 
 that she really had nothing the matter with 
 her, advised what I knew would be very 
 palatable to her,. — namely, a very nutritious 
 regime, as much air and amusement ^s was 
 possible in her position, and gave her a pre- 
 scription for some gentle medicine, to prevent 
 any evil effect from the luxurious fare I had 
 recommended. 
 
PARIS. 
 
 213 
 
 " I was half tempted to refuse the fee she 
 slipped into my hand, but I recollected that 
 people never value what they get for nothing, 
 and so I pocketed it. 
 
 " In a few days, I was sent for to the 
 
 Hotel to attend the Duchesse de 
 
 the mistress of the said femme de chambre. 
 This was an event beyond my hopes, and I 
 determined to profit by it. I found the 
 Duchesse suffering under a malady — if malady 
 it could be called — to which I have since 
 discovered grand ladies are peculiarly subject ; 
 namely, a superfluity of embonpoint, occa- 
 sioned by luxurious habits and the want of 
 exercise. 
 
 " *I am very much indisposed, Doctor,' lisped 
 the lady, ' and your prescription has done my 
 feimne de chambre so much good, that I 
 determined to send for you. I am so very 
 ill, that I am fast losing my shape ; my face, 
 too, is no longer the same ; and my feet and 
 hands are not to be recofmised.' 
 
214 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " I drew out my watch, felt her pulse, 
 looked grave, inquired — though it w^as use- 
 less, her embonpoint having revealed it — 
 wdiat were her general habits and regime; 
 and then, having written a prescription, urged 
 the necessity of her abandoning cafe au lait, 
 rich consommes, and high - seasoned entrees ; 
 recommended early rising and constant exer- 
 cise ; and promised that a strict attention to 
 my advice would soon restore her health, 
 and with it her shape. 
 
 " I w^as told to call every day until further 
 orders ; and I, pleading the excess of occupa- 
 tion which would render my daily visits 
 to her so difficult, consented to make them, 
 only on condition that my fair patient was 
 to walk with me every day six times around 
 the garden of her hotel; for I guessed she 
 was too indolent to persevere in taking exer- 
 cise if left to herself. 
 
 *' The system I pursued with her succeeded 
 perfectly. I was then a very active man, 
 
PARIS. ^15 
 
 and I walked so fast that I left the Duchesse 
 every day when our promenade ended bathed 
 in a copious perspiration ; which, aided by 
 the medicine and sparing regime, soon re- 
 stored her figure to its former symmetry. 
 
 " At her hotel, I daily met ladies of the 
 highest rank and distinction, many of whom 
 were suffering from a similar cause, the same 
 annoyance for which the Duchesse consulted 
 me ; and I then discovered that there is no 
 malady, however grave, so distressing to your 
 sex, ladies, or for the cure of which they 
 are so willing to submit to the most dis- 
 agreeable regime, as for aught that impairs 
 their personal beauty. 
 
 " When her female friends saw^ the im- 
 provement effected in the appearance of the 
 Duchesse by my treatment, I was consulted 
 by them all, and my fame and fortune rapidly 
 increased. I was proclaimed to be the most 
 w^onderful physician, and to have effected 
 the most extraordinary cures; when, in truth, 
 
216 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 I but consulted Nature, and aided her 
 efforts. 
 
 " Shortly after this period, a grand lady, 
 an acquaintance of one of my many patients 
 among the noblesse, consulted me ; and here 
 the case was wholly different to that of the 
 Duchesse, for this lady had gro\\Ti so thin, 
 that wrinkles — those most frightful of all 
 symptoms of decaying beauty — had made their 
 appearance. My new patient told me that, hear- 
 ing that hitherto my great celebrity had been 
 acquired by the cure of obesity, she feared it 
 was useless to consult me for a disease of so 
 opposite a nature, but even still more distressing, 
 
 " I inquired into her habits and regime. 
 Found that she took violent exercise ; was 
 abstemious at table ; drank strong green tea, 
 and coffee without cream or milk ; disliked 
 nutritious food; and, though she sat up late, 
 was an early riser. 
 
 " I ordered her the frequent use of warm 
 baths, and to take all that I had prohibited the 
 
PARIS. 217 
 
 Duchesse ; permitted only gentle exercise 
 in a carriage; and, in short, soon succeeded 
 in rendering the thin lady plump and rosy, 
 to the great joy of herself, and the wonder 
 of her friends. 
 
 " This treatment, which was only what 
 anv one possessed of common sense would 
 have prescribed in such a case, extended 
 mv fame far and wide. Fat and thin ladies 
 flocked to me for ad\-ice, and not only libe- 
 rally rewarded the success of my system, but 
 sounded my praises in all quarters. 
 
 " I became the doctor a la mode, soon 
 amassed an independence, and, though not 
 without a confidence in my own skill — for 
 I have never lost any opportunity of improve- 
 ment in my profession — I must confess that 
 I still retain the con\4ction that the celebrated 
 
 Doctor P would have had little chance, 
 
 at least for many years, of acquiring either 
 fame or wealth, had he not employed the 
 means I have confessed to you, ladies." 
 
 VOL. I. V L 
 
218 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 I cannot do justice to this spirituel old man's 
 mode of telling the story, or describe the 
 finesse of his arch smile while recounting it. 
 Mr. P. C. Scarlett, a son of our excellent 
 and valued friend Sir James Scarlett,* dined 
 here yesterday. He is a fine young man, 
 clever, well-informed, and amiable, with the 
 same benignant countenance and urbanity of 
 manner that are so remarkable in his father. 
 
 I remember how much struck I was with 
 Sir James Scarlett's countenance when he 
 was first presented to me. It has in it such 
 a happy mixture of sparkling intelligence 
 and good -nature that I was immediately 
 pleased with him, even before I had an 
 opportunity of knowing the rare and excel- 
 lent qualities for which he is distinguished, 
 and the treasures of knowledge with which 
 his mind is stored. 
 
 I have seldom met any man so well versed 
 in literature as Sir James Scarlett, or with 
 
 * The present Lord Abinger. 
 
PARIS. 219 
 
 a more refined taste for it ; and when one 
 reflects on the arduous duties of his pro- 
 fession — duties which he has ever fulfilled 
 wdth such credit to himself and advantage 
 to others — it seems little short of miraculous 
 how he could have found time to have made 
 himself so intimately acquainted, not onlv with 
 the classics, hut with* all the elegant literature 
 of Enorland and France. 
 
 How many pleasant days have I passed in 
 the society of Lord Erskine and Sir James 
 Scarlett ! Poor Lord Erskine ! never more 
 shall I hear your eloquent tongue utter 
 bon mots in which wit sparkled, but ill-nature 
 never appeared ; nor see your luminous eves 
 flashing with joyousness, as when, surrounded 
 bv fi'iends at the festive board, vou rendered 
 the banquet indeed " the feast of reason 
 and the flow of soul ! " 
 
 Mr. H B dined here yesterday, 
 
 and he talked over the pleasant days we had 
 passed in Italy. He is an excellent specimen 
 
2^0 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the young men of the present day. Well- 
 informed, and with a mind highly cultivated, 
 he has travelled much in other countries, 
 without losing any of the good qualities and 
 habits peculiar to his own. 
 
 Went to the Theatre Italien, last night, 
 and heard Madame Malibran sing for the 
 first time. Her personation of " Desdemona " 
 is exquisite, and the thrilling tones of her 
 voice were in perfect harmony with the deep 
 sensibility she evinced in every look and 
 movement. 
 
 I have heard no singer to please me com- 
 parable to Malibran : there is something 
 positively electrical in the effect she pro- 
 duces on my feelings. Her acting is as ori- 
 ginal as it is effective ; Passion and Nature 
 are her guides, and she abandons herself to 
 them con amove. 
 
 The only defect I can discover in her 
 singing is an excess oi Jiorituri, that some- 
 times destrovs the vraisemhlance of the role 
 
PARIS. 221 
 
 she is enacting, and makes one think more 
 of the wonderful singer than of " Desdemona." 
 This defect, however, is atoned for by the 
 bursts of passion into which her powerful 
 voice breaks when some deep emotion is to 
 be expressed, and the accomplished singer 
 is forgotten in the impassioned " Desdemona." 
 
 Spent last evening at Madame C 's, and 
 
 met there la Duchesse de la Force, la Mar- 
 quise de Brehan, and the usual habitues de la 
 maison. La Duchesse is one of Vancien 
 regime, though less ceremonious than they 
 are in general said to be, and appears to be 
 as good-natured as she is good-humoured. 
 
 The Marquise de B told me some 
 
 amusing anecdotes of the Imperial Court, 
 and of the gaiety and love of dress of the 
 beautiful Princesse Pauline Borghese, to whom 
 she was much attached. 
 
 The whole of the Buonaparte family seem 
 to have possessed, in an eminent degree, the 
 happy art of conciliating good -will in those 
 
222 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 around them — an art necessary in all persons 
 filling elevated positions, but doubly so in those 
 who have achieved their o\\ti elevation. The 
 family of the Emperor Napoleon were remark- 
 able for the kindness and consideration they 
 invariably evinced for those who in any way 
 depended on them, yet a natural dignity of 
 manner precluded the possibility of familiarity. 
 
 The Marquise de B having mentioned 
 
 the Duchesse d'Abrantes, Madame C 
 
 inquired kindly for her, and the Marquise 
 told her that she had been only a few days 
 before to pay her a visit. 
 
 Anxious to learn something of a woman 
 who filled so distinguished a position during 
 the imperial dynasty, I questioned Madame 
 
 de B , and learned that the Duchesse 
 
 d'Abrantes, who for many years lived in a 
 style of splendour that, even in the palmy 
 days of her husband's prosperity, w^hen, go- 
 vernor of Paris, he supported almost a regal 
 establishment, excited the surprise, if not 
 
PARIS. 223 
 
 env^', of his contemporaries, is now reduced 
 to so limited an income that many of the 
 comforts, if not the necessaries of life, are 
 denied her. 
 
 " She supports her privation^; cheerfully," 
 added the Marquise ; " her conversation 
 abounds in anecdotes of remarkable people, 
 and she relates them with a ^'ivacity and 
 piquancy peculiar to her, which render her 
 society very amusing- and interestinof. The 
 humanity, if not the policy, of the Bourbons 
 may be questioned in their leaving the widow 
 of a brave general in a state of poverty that 
 must remind her, with bitterness, of the 
 altered fortunes entailed on her and many 
 others by their restoration." 
 
 AVhen indemnities were granted to those 
 whom the Revolution, which drove the royal 
 family from France, nearly beggared, it would 
 have been well if a modest competency had 
 been assio^ned to those whose sons and bus- 
 bands shed their blood for their countiT, 
 
224 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and helped to achieve for it that military 
 glory which none can deny it. 
 
 Went over the Luxembourg Palace and 
 Gardens to-day. The only change in the 
 former since I last saw it, is that some 
 pictures, painted by French artists at Rome, 
 and very creditable to them, have been added 
 to its collection. 
 
 I like these old gardens, with their formal 
 w^alks and prim parterres; I like also the 
 company by which they are chiefly frequented, 
 consisting of old people and young children. 
 
 Along the walk exposed to the southern 
 aspect, several groups of old men were saunter- 
 ing, conversing with an animation seldom seen 
 in sexagenarians, except in France ; old women, 
 too, many of them holding lapdogs by a riband, 
 and attended by a female servant, were taking 
 their daily walk; while, occasionally, might 
 be seen an elderly couple exhibiting tow^ards 
 each other an assiduity pleasant to behold, 
 displayed by the husband's arranging the 
 
PARIS. 225 
 
 shawl or cloak of his wife, or the wife gently 
 brushing away with her glove the silken 
 threads left on his sleeve by its contact with 
 hers. 
 
 No little portion of the love that united 
 them in youth may still be witnessed in these 
 old couples. Each has lost every trace of the 
 comeliness that first attracted them to each 
 other ; but they remember what they were, and 
 memory, gilding the past, shew^s each to the 
 other, not as they actually are, but as they 
 were many a long year ago. No face, how- 
 ever fair, — not even the blooming one of their 
 favourite granddaughter, seems so lovely to 
 the uxorious old husband as the one he re- 
 members to have been so proud of forty years 
 ao^o, and which still beams on him with an 
 expression of tenderness that reminds him of 
 its former beauty. And she, too, with what 
 complacency does she listen to his oft-repeated 
 reminiscences of her youthful attractions, and 
 how dear is the bond that still unites them ! 
 
 L 2 
 
226 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Plain and iminterestinof in the eves of 
 others, they present only the aspect of age ; 
 alas ! never lovely : but in them at least other 
 gleams of past good looks recall the past, 
 when each considered the other peerless, 
 though now they alone remember that " such 
 things were, and were most sweet." 
 
 Their youth and their maturity have been 
 passed together ; their joys and their sorrows 
 have been shared, and they are advancing 
 hand in hand towards that rapid descent in 
 the mountain of life, at whose base is the 
 grave, hoping that in death they may not be 
 divided. 
 
 Who can look at those old couples, and not 
 feel impressed with the sanctity and blessed- 
 ness of marriage, which, binding two destinies 
 in one, giving the same interests and the same 
 objects of affection to both, secures for each a 
 companionship and a consolation for those 
 days which must come to all, when, fallen into 
 the sere and yellow leaf, the societv of the 
 
PARIS. 227 
 
 young and gay can no longer charm them, and 
 the present requires the recollections of the 
 past to render it less cheerless ; recollections 
 only to be found in those who have grown 
 old together ? 
 
 Yonder old man, leaning on the arm of a 
 middle-aged woman, who seems less like his 
 housekeeper than his domestic tyrant, oifers 
 an example of the fate of those who have 
 lived in what is commonly called a state of 
 single blessedness. A youth and maturity of 
 pleasure have been followed by an old age of 
 infirmity. 
 
 He had a thousand pleasantries ready to 
 utter on the subject of marriage whenever it 
 was mentioned ; could cite endless examples of 
 unhappy couples (forgetting to name a single 
 one of the happy) ; and laughed and shook his 
 head as he declared that lie never w^ould be 
 caught. 
 
 As long as health remained, and that he 
 could pass his evenings in gay societv, or at 
 
228 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the theatres, he felt not the want of that 
 greatest of all comforts, home ; a comfort 
 inseparable from a wife to share, as well as to 
 make it. But the first attack of illness that 
 confined him to his room, with no tender 
 hand to smooth his pillow, no gentle voice to 
 inquire into his wants, or to minister to them ; 
 no one to anticipate his wishes almost before 
 he had framed them ; no loving face to look 
 fondly and anxiously on him ; made him feel 
 sensible, that though a bachelor's life of plea- 
 sure may pass agreeably enough during the 
 season of health, it is a most cheerless and 
 dreary state of existence when deprived of it. 
 
 The discovery is, alas ! made too late. All 
 that he had ever heard or urged against 
 matrimony applies tenfold to cases where it 
 is contracted in old age. He can still admire 
 youth and beauty, but he knows that with 
 such there can never exist any reciprocity 
 with his own feelings. 
 
 The young beauty who would barter her 
 
PARIS. 229 
 
 charms for his wealth, would be, he knows, 
 no suitable companion for his fire-side ; and 
 to wed some staid dame whose youth has been 
 passed wdth some dear, kind, first husband 
 — of whom, if not often speaking, she might 
 in all human probability be sometimes think- 
 ing — has something too repugnant to his feel- 
 inofs to be thouo^ht of. 
 
 An elderly maiden with a lap-dog, or a 
 parrot, would be even more insupportable ; 
 for how could one who has never had to con- 
 sult the pleasure or wishes of aught save self 
 be able to study his ? No I it is now too late 
 to think of marriage, and what, therefore, is 
 to be done ? In this emero^encv, a severe 
 attack of rheumatism confines him to his 
 chamber for many days. His valet is found 
 out to be clumsy and awkward in assisting him 
 to put on his flannel gloves y the housekeeper, 
 who is called up to receive instructions about 
 some particular broth that he requires, is 
 asked to officiate, and suggests so many little 
 
230 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 comforts, and evinces so much sympathy for his 
 sufferings, that she is soon installed as nurse. 
 
 By administering to his wants, and still 
 more by flattery and obsequiousness, she soon 
 renders herself indispensable to the invalid. 
 She is proclaimed to be a treasure, and her 
 accounts, which hitherto had been sharply 
 scrutinised and severely censured, are hence- 
 forth allowed to pass unblamed, and, conse- 
 quently, soon amount to double the sum which 
 had formerly, and with reason, been found 
 fault with. The slightest symptom of illness 
 is magnified into a serious attack by the sup- 
 posed affectionate and assiduous nurse, until 
 her master, in compliance with her advice, 
 becomes a confirmed hypochondriac, whom she 
 governs despotically under a show of devoted 
 attachment. 
 
 She has, by slow but sure degrees, alienated 
 him from all his relatives, and banished from 
 his house the few friends whom she believed 
 possessed any influence over him. Having 
 
PARIS. 231 
 
 rendered herself essential to his comfort, she 
 menaces him continually with the threat of 
 leaving his service ; and is only induced to 
 remain hy a considerable increase to her salar}% 
 though not, as she asserts, by any interested 
 motive. 
 
 She lately informed her master, that she 
 was "very sorry — very sorry, indeed — but it 
 was time for her to secure her future comfort ; 
 
 and M. , the rich grocer, had proposed 
 
 marriage to her, and offered a good settlement. 
 It would be a great grief to her to leave so 
 •kind a master, especially as she knew no one 
 to whom she could confide the care of him ; 
 but a settlement of 4000 francs a-year was not 
 to be refused, and she miofht never ao-ain 
 receive so good an offer." 
 
 The proposal of the rich grocer, which never 
 existed but in her own fertile brain, is rejected, 
 and her continuance as housekeeper and nurse 
 secured by a settlement of a similar sum made 
 on her by her master; who congratulates him- 
 
232 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 self on having accomplished so advantageous 
 a bargain, while she is laughing with the 
 valet at his credulity. 
 
 This same valet, finding her influence to be 
 omnipotent with his master, determines on 
 marrying her secretly, that they may join in 
 plundering the valetudinarian, whose infirmities 
 furnish a perpetual subject for the coarse 
 pleasantries of both these ungrateful menials. 
 
 She is now giving him his daily walk on 
 the sunny side of the Luxembourg Gardens. 
 See how she turns abruptly down an alley, in 
 despite of his request to continue where he* 
 was : but the truth is, her Argus eyes have 
 discovered his niece and her beautiful children 
 walking at a distance ; and, as she has not 
 only prevented their admission to his house, 
 but concealed their visits, intercepted their 
 letters, making him believe they are absent 
 from Paris and have forgotten him, she now 
 precludes their meeting ; while to his querulous 
 murmurs at being hurried along, she answers 
 
PARIS. 233 
 
 that the alley she has taken him to is more 
 sheltered. 
 
 It is true the invalid sometimes half sus- 
 pects, not only that he is governed, hut some- 
 what despotically, too, hy the worthy and 
 affectionate creature, whose sole study it is to 
 take care of his health. He considers it hard 
 to he debarred from sending for one of his 
 old friends to play a party at picquet, or a 
 game at chess with him, during the long 
 winter evenings ; and he thinks it would be 
 pleasanter to have some of his female relatives 
 occasionally to dinner : but as the least hint 
 on these subjects never fails to produce ill- 
 humour on the part of the "good Jeanette," 
 who declares that such unreasonable indul- 
 gence would inevitably destroy the precious 
 health of Monsieur, he submits to her \^ill ; 
 and while wholly governed by an ignorant 
 and artful servant, can still smile that he is 
 free from being henpecked by a wife. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 In no part of Paris are so many children 
 to be seen as in the gardens of the Luxem- 
 bourg. At every step may be encountered 
 groups of playful creatures of every age, from 
 the infant slumbering in its nurse's arms, to 
 the healthful girl holding her little brother 
 or sister by the hand as her little charge 
 toddles along; or the manly boy, who gives 
 his arm to his vouno^er sister with all the 
 air of protection of manhood. 
 
 What joyous sounds of mirth come from 
 each group — the clear voices ringing plea- 
 santly on the ear, from creatures fair and 
 blooming as the flowers of the rich parterres 
 among which they wander ! How each group 
 examines the other — half-disposed to join in 
 
PARIS. 235 
 
 each other's sports, hut withheld hy a vague 
 fear of making the first advances — a fear 
 which indicates that even ah'eady civihsation 
 and the artificial habits it engenders, have 
 taught them the restraint it imposes ! 
 
 The nurses, too, scrutinise each other, and 
 their little masters and misses, as they meet. 
 They take in at a glance the toilettes of each, 
 and judge with an extraordinary accuracy the 
 station of life to which they appertain. 
 
 The child of noble birth is known by the 
 simplicity of its dress and the good manners 
 of its honne ; while that of the "parvenu is at 
 once recoo^nised bv the showiness and ex- 
 pensiveness of its clothes, and the supercilious- 
 ness of its nurse, who, accustomed to the 
 purse-proud pretensions of her employers, 
 values nothing so much as all the attributes 
 that indicate the possession of wealth. 
 
 The little children look wistfully at each 
 other every time they meet ; then begin to 
 smile, and at length approach, and join, 
 
Q36 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 half-timidly, half-laughingly, in each other's 
 sports. The nurses, too, draw near, enter 
 into a conversation, in which each endeavours 
 to insinuate the importance of her young 
 charge, and consequently her own; while the 
 children have already contracted an intimacy, 
 which is exemplified by running hand-in-hand 
 together, their clear jocund voices being min- 
 gled. 
 
 It is a beautiful sight to behold these gay 
 creatures, who have little more than passed 
 the first two or three years of life, with the 
 roses of health glowing on their dimpled cheeks, 
 and the joyousness of infancy sparkling in their 
 eyes. 
 
 They know naught of existence but its 
 smiles ; and, caressed by doating parents, 
 have not a want unsatisfied. Entering life 
 all hope and gaiety, what a contrast do they 
 offer to the groups of old men who must so 
 soon leave it, who are basking in the sunshine 
 so near them ! Yet they, too, have had their 
 
PARIS. 237 
 
 hours of joyous infancy ; and, old and faded 
 as they are, they have been doated on, as they 
 gambolled like the happy little beings they 
 now pause to contemplate. 
 
 There was somethino^ touchino- in the con- 
 trast of youth and age brought thus together, 
 and I thought that more than one of the old 
 men seemed to feel it as they looked on the 
 happy children. 
 
 I met my new acquaintance. Dr. P , 
 
 who was walking with two or three savans ; 
 and, having spoken to him, he joined us in 
 our promenade, and greatly added to its plea- 
 sure by his sensible remarks and by his cheerful 
 tone of mind. He told me that the sio-ht of 
 the fine children daily to be met in the Lux- 
 embourg Gardens, was as exhilarating to his 
 spirits as the gay flowers in the parterre ; and 
 that he had frequently prescribed a walk here 
 to those whose minds stood in need of such a 
 stimulant. 
 
 The General and Countess d'Orsav arrived 
 
238 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 yesterday from their chateau, in Franche 
 Comte. A long correspondence had taught 
 me to appreciate the gifted mind of Madame, 
 who, to solid attainments, joins a sparkling 
 wit and vivacity that render her conversation 
 delightful. 
 
 The Countess d'Orsay has been a cele- 
 brated beauty ; and, though a grandmother, 
 still retains considerable traces of it. Her 
 countenance is so spirituelle and piquant, that 
 it gives additional point to the clever things 
 she perpetually utters ; and what greatly en- 
 hances her attractions is the perfect freedom 
 from any of the airs of a belle esprit, and the 
 total exemption from affectation that distin- 
 guishes her. 
 
 General d*Orsay, known from his youth as 
 Le Beau d'Orsay, still justifies the appel- 
 lation, for he is the handsomest man of his 
 age that I have ever beheld. It is said that 
 when the Emperor Napoleon first saw him, he 
 observed that he would make an admirable 
 
PARIS. 239 
 
 model for a Jupiter, so noble and commanding 
 was the character of his beauty. 
 
 Like most people remarkable for good 
 looks, General d'Orsay is reported to have 
 been wholly free from vanity ; to which, per- 
 haps, may be attributed the general assent 
 accorded to his personal attractions which, 
 while universally admitted, excited none of 
 the envy and ill-will which such advantages 
 but too often draw on their possessor. There 
 is a calm and dignified simplicity in the 
 manners of General d'Orsay, that harmonises 
 well with his lofty bearing. 
 
 It is very gratifying to witness the affection 
 and good intelligence that reign in the do- 
 mestic circles in France. Grandfathers and 
 grandmothers here meet with an attention 
 from their children and grandchildren, the 
 demonstrations of which are very touching; 
 and I often see gay and brilliant parties aban- 
 doned by some of those with whom I am 
 in the habit of dailv intercourse, in order that 
 
240 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 they may pass the evenings with their aged 
 relatives. 
 
 Frequently do I see the beautiful Duchesse 
 de Guiche enter the salon of her grandmother, 
 sparkling in diamonds, after having hurried 
 away from some splendid ^e^e, of which she 
 was the brightest ornament, to spend an hour 
 with her before she retired to rest; and the 
 Countess d'Orsay is so devoted to her mother, 
 that nearly her whole time is passed with her. 
 
 It is pleasant to see the mother and grand- 
 mother inspecting and commenting on the 
 toilette of the lovely daughter, of whom they 
 are so justly proud, while she is wholly occu- 
 pied in inquiring about the health of each, 
 or answering their questions relative to that of 
 her children. 
 
 The good and venerable Due de Gramont 
 examines his daughter-in-law through his eye- 
 glass, and, with an air of paternal affection, 
 observes to General d'Orsay, " How well our 
 daughter looks to-night! " 
 
PARIS. 241 
 
 Madame Craufurd, referring to her great 
 age last evening, said to me, and a tear stole 
 down her cheek while she spoke : " Ah, my 
 dear friend ! how can I think that I must soon 
 leave all those who love me so much, and 
 whom I so dote on, without bitter regret? 
 Yes, I am too happy here to be as resigned as 
 I ought to be to meet death." 
 
 Saw Potier in the Ci-devant Jeune Homme 
 last night. It is an excellent piece of acting, 
 from the first scene where he appears in all 
 the infirmity of age, in his night-cap and 
 flannel dressing-gown, to the last, in which he 
 portrays the would-be young man. His face, 
 his figure, his cough, are inimitable ; and 
 when he recounts to his servant the gaieties 
 of the previous night, the hollow cheek, 
 sunken eye, and hurried breathing of the 
 " Ci-devant Jeune Homme," render the scene 
 most impressive. 
 
 Nothinof could be more comic than the 
 metamorphose effected in his appearance by 
 
 VOL. I. M 
 
242 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 dress, except it were his endeavours to assume 
 an air and countenance suitable to the juven- 
 ility of his toilette ; while, at intervals, some 
 irrepressible symptom of infirmity reminded 
 the audience of the pangs the eflPort to appear 
 young inflicted on him. Potier is a finished 
 actor, and leaves nothing to be wished, except 
 that he may long continue to perform and 
 delight his audience as last night. 
 
 Dined yesterday at the Countess d'Orsay's, 
 with a large family party. The only stranger 
 was Sir Francis Burdett. A most agreeable 
 dinner, followed by a very pleasant evening. 
 I have seldom seen any Englishman enjoy 
 French society as much as the worthy baronet 
 does. He speaks the language with great 
 facility, is well acquainted with its literature, 
 and has none of the prejudices which mili- 
 tate so much against acquiring a perfect know- 
 ledge of the manners and customs of a foreign 
 country. 
 
 French society has decidedly one great 
 
PARIS. 243 
 
 superiority over English, and that is its free- 
 dom from those topics which too often engross 
 so considerable a portion of male conversation, 
 even in the presence of ladies, in England. 
 I have often passed the evening previously and 
 subsequently to a race, in which many of the 
 men present took a lively interest, without ever 
 hearing it made the subject of conversation. 
 Could this be said of a party in England, on a 
 similar occasion ? 
 
 Nor do the men here talk of their shooting 
 or hunting before women, as with us. This 
 is a great relief, for in England many a woman 
 is doomed to Hsten to interminable tales of 
 slaughtered grouse, partridges, and pheasants ; 
 of hair-breadth ** 'scapes by flood and field," 
 and venturous leaps, the descriptions of which 
 leave one in doubt whether the narrator or his 
 horse be the greater animal of the two, and 
 render the poor listener more fatigued by the 
 recital than either was by the longest chase. 
 
 A dissertation on the comparative merits 
 
244 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of Manton's, Lancaster's, and Moore's guns, 
 and the advantage of percussion locks, it is 
 true, generally diversifies the conversation. 
 
 Then how edifying it is to hear the pedi- 
 grees of horses — the odds for and against the 
 favourite winning such or such a race — the 
 good or bad books of the talkers — the hedg- 
 ing or backing of the bettors ! Yet all this 
 are women condemned to hear on the eve 
 of a race, or during the shooting or hunting 
 season, should their evil stars bring them into 
 the society of any of the Nimrods or sports- 
 men of the day, who think it not only allow- 
 able to devote nearly all their time to such 
 pursuits, but to talk of little else. 
 
 The woman who aims at being popular in 
 her county, must not only listen patiently, 
 but evince a lively interest in these intellectual 
 occupations ; while, if the truth w^as confessed, 
 she is thoroughly ennuyee by these details of 
 them : or if not, it must be inferred that she 
 has lost much of the refinement of mind and 
 
PARIS. 245 
 
 taste peculiar to the well-educated portion of 
 her sex. 
 
 I do not object to men liking racing, hunt- 
 ing, and shooting. The first preserves the 
 breed of horses, for which England is so justly 
 celebrated, and hunting keeps up the skill 
 in horsemanship in which our men excel. 
 What I do object to is their making these 
 pursuits the constant topics of conversation 
 before women, instead of selecting" those more 
 suitable to the tastes and habits of the 
 latter. 
 
 There is none of the affectation of avoidino- 
 subjects supposed to be uninteresting to women 
 ^dsible in the men here. Thev do not utter 
 with a smile — half pity, half condescension, — 
 *' we must not talk politics before the ladies ;" 
 thev merelv avoid enterinof into discussions, 
 or exhibiting party spirit, and shew their 
 deference for female society by speaking on 
 literature, on which they politely seem to take 
 for granted that women are well informed. 
 
^46 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Perhaps this deferential treatment of the 
 gentler sex may not be wholly caused by the 
 good breeding of the men in France ; for I 
 strongly suspect that the women here would 
 be very little disposed to submit to the non- 
 chalance that prompts the conduct I have 
 referred to in England, and that any man 
 who would make his horses or his field-sports 
 the topic of discourse in their presence, would 
 soon find himself expelled from their society. 
 
 Frenchwomen still think, and with reason, 
 that they govern the tone of the circles in 
 which they move, and look with jealousy on 
 any infringement of the respectful attention 
 they consider to be their due. 
 
 A few nights ago I saw the Duchesse de 
 Guiche, on her return from a reception at 
 court, sparkling in diamonds, and looking so 
 beautiful that she reminded me of Burke's 
 description of the lovely and unfortunate 
 Marie Antoinette. To-day I thought her 
 still more attractive, when, wearing only a 
 
PARIS. 247 
 
 simple white peignoir, and her matchless hair 
 bound tightly round her classically shaped 
 head, I saw her enacting the part of garde 
 malade to her children, who have caught the 
 measles. 
 
 With a lar^e and well-chosen nurserv-esta- 
 blishment, she would confide her precious 
 charge to no care but her own, and moved 
 from each little white bed to the other with 
 noiseless step and anxious o^lance, brincrino- 
 comfort to the dear little invalid in each. No 
 w^onder that her childi'en adore her, for never 
 was there so devoted a mother. 
 
 In the meridian of youth and beautv, and 
 filling so brilliant a position in France, it is 
 touchino^ to witness how whollv enorossed this 
 amiable vomiof woman's thouahts are by her 
 domestic duties. She incites, by sharing, the 
 studies of her bovs ; and already is her little 
 girl, owing to her mother's judicious system, 
 cited as a model. 
 
 It was pleasant to see the Due, when re- 
 
248 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 leased from his attendance at court, hurrying 
 into the sick chamber of his children, and 
 their languid eyes, lighting up with a mo- 
 mentary animation, and their feverish lips 
 relaxing into a smile, at the sound of his 
 well-known voice. And this is the couple 
 considered to be " the glass of fashion and 
 the mould of form," the observed of all ob- 
 servers, of the courtly circle at Paris ! 
 
 Who could behold them as I have done, 
 in that sick room, without acknowledofinsf that, 
 despite of all that has been said of the dele- 
 terious influence of courts on the feelings of 
 those who live much in them, the truly 
 good pass unharmed through the dangerous 
 ordeal ? 
 
 Went to the Theatre des Nouveautes last 
 night, where I saw La Maison du Rempart, 
 The Parisians seem to have a decided taste 
 for bringing scenes of riot and disorder on 
 the stage ; and the tendency of such exhi- 
 bitions is any thing but salutarv with so in- 
 
PARIS. 249 
 
 flammable a people, and in times like the 
 present. 
 
 One of the scenes of La Maison du Rempart 
 represents an armed mob demolishing the 
 house of a citizen — an act of violence that 
 seemed to aiford great satisfaction to the 
 majority of the audience ; and, though the 
 period represented is that of the FroJide, the 
 acts of the rabble strongly assimilated with 
 those of the same class in later times, when 
 the reyolution let loose on hapless France the 
 worst of all t}Tants — a reckless and san- 
 guinary mob. I cannot help feeling alarmed 
 at the consequences likely to result from such 
 performances. Sparks of fire flung among 
 gunpowder are not more dangerous. Shewing 
 a populace what they can effect by brutal force 
 is a dangerous experiment ; it is like letting 
 a tame lion see how easily he could over- 
 power his keepers. 
 
 Mr. Cuthbert and jVI. Charles Laffitte 
 dined here yesterday. Both are excellent 
 
 m2 
 
250 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 specimens of their countries ; the former heing 
 well-informed and agreeable, and the latter 
 possessing all the good sense we believe to 
 be peculiar to an Englishman, with the high 
 breeding that appertains to a thoroughly well- 
 educated Frenchman. 
 
 The advance of civilization was evident 
 in both these gentlemen — the Englishman 
 speaking French with purity and fluency, 
 and the Frenchman speaking English like a 
 born Briton. Twenty years ago, this would 
 have been considered a very rare occurrence, 
 while now it excites little remark. But it 
 is not alone the languages of the different 
 countries that Mr. Cuthbert and M. Charles 
 Laffitte have acquired, for both are well ac- 
 quainted with the literature of each, which 
 renders their society very agreeable. 
 
 Spent - last evening in the Rue d'Anjou, 
 where I met Lady Combermere, the Dowager 
 Lady Hawarden, and Mrs. Masters. Lady 
 Combermere is lively and agreeable, un pen 
 
PARIS. 251 
 
 romanesque, which gives gi'eat originality to 
 her conversation, and sings Mrs. Arkwright's 
 beautiful ballads with great feeling. 
 
 Mr. Charles Grant* dined here yesterday. 
 He is a very sensible man, possessing a vast 
 fund of general infoniiation, with gentle and 
 highly-polished manners. What a charm there 
 is in agreeable manners, and how soon one 
 feels at ease with those who possess them ! 
 
 Spent, or mispent, a great portion of the 
 day in visiting the curiosity shops on the 
 Quai Voltaire, and came away from them T\'ith 
 a lighter purse than I entered. There is no 
 resisting, at least I find it so, the exquisite j90 ?•- 
 celaiiie de Sevres, off which the dainty dames 
 of the reign of Louis the Fourteenth feasted, 
 or which held their bouquets, or pot poiirri. 
 An etui of gold set "vsdth oriental agates and 
 brilliants, and Siflacon of rock crystal, both of 
 which once appertained to ]\Iadame de Se\igne, 
 vanquished my prudence. 
 
 * Now Lord Glenelg. 
 
252 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Would that with the possession of these 
 articles, often used by her, I could also inherit 
 the matchless grace with which her pen could 
 invest every subject it touched ! But, alas ! it 
 is easier to acquire the beautiful bijouterie, 
 rendered still more valuable by having be- 
 longed to celebrated people, than the talent 
 that gained their celebrity ; and so I must 
 be content with inhaling esprit de rose from 
 the Jlacon of Madame de Sevigne, without 
 aspiring to any portion of the esprit for which 
 she was so distinguished. 
 
 I am now rich in the possession of objects 
 once belonging to remarkable women, and I 
 am not a little content with my acquisitions. 
 I can boast the gold and enamelled pincushion 
 of Madame de Maintenon, heart-shaped, and 
 stuck as full of pins as the hearts of the 
 French Protestants were with thorns by the 
 revocation of the Edict of Nantes ; to which 
 she is said to have so greatlv contributed bv 
 her counsel to her infatuated lover, Louis the 
 
PARIS. 
 
 Fourteenth. I can indulge in a pinch of snuff 
 from the tahatiere of the Marquise de Ram- 
 bouillet, hold my court-plaster in the hoite a 
 moiiche of Ninon de TEnclos, and cut ribands 
 with the scissors of Madame du Deffand. 
 
 This desire of obtaining objects that have 
 belonged to celebrated people may be, and 
 often is, considered puerile ; but I confess to 
 the weakness, and the contemplation of the 
 little memorials I have named awakens recol- 
 lections in my mind fraught with interest. 
 
 I can fancy Madame de Se^^gne, who was 
 as amiable as she was clever, and whose 
 tenderness towards her daughter is demon- 
 strated so naturally and touchingly in the 
 letters she addressed to her, holding the 
 flacon now mine to the nostrils of ^ladame 
 de Grio-nan, in whose health she was alwavs 
 so much more interested than in her own. 
 
 I can see in my mind's eye the precise and 
 demure INIadame de Maintenon taking a pin 
 fi'om the very pincushion now before me, to 
 
S54i THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 prevent the opening of her kerchief, and so 
 conceal even her throat from the prying eyes 
 of the aged voluptuary, whose passions the 
 wily prude is said to have excited hy a con- 
 cealment of a portion of her person that had, 
 in all probability, ceased to possess charms 
 enough to produce this effect, if revealed. 
 
 This extreme reserve on the part of the 
 mature coquette evinced a profound know- 
 ledo'e of mankind, and, above all, of him on 
 whom she practised her arts. The profuse 
 display of the bust and shoulders in those 
 days, when the ladies of the court left so 
 little to the imagination of the amorous 
 monarch on whose heart so many of them had 
 designs, must have impaired the effect meant 
 to have been achieved by the indelicate / ex- 
 posure ; for — hear it, ye fair dames, with whose 
 snowy busts and dimpled shoulders the eyes of 
 your male acquaintance are as familiar as with 
 your faces!— the charms of nature, however 
 beautiful, fall short of the ideal perfection ac- 
 
PARIS. 9,55 
 
 corded to them by the imagination, when un- 
 seen. The clever Maintenon, aware of this fact, 
 of which the less wise of her sex are ignorant 
 or fororetful, afforded a strikinof contrast in her 
 dress to the women around her, and piquing 
 first the curiosity, and then the passions, of 
 the old libertine, acquired an influence over 
 him when she had long passed the meridian 
 of her personal attractions, which youthful 
 beauties, who left him no room to doubt 
 their charms, or to exaggerate them as ima- 
 gination is prone to do, could never accom- 
 plish. 
 
 This very pincushion, with its red velvet 
 heart stuck with pins, was probably a gift 
 from the enamoured Louis, and meant to be 
 s\Tiibolical of the state of his o^vn : which, in 
 hardness, it might be truly said to resemble. 
 It may have often been placed on her table 
 when Maintenon was paying the penalty of 
 her hard-earned greatness by the painful 
 task of endeavourincT" — as she acknowledo^ed 
 
256 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 — to amuse a man who was no longer amus- 
 able. 
 
 Could it speak, it might relate the weari- 
 some hours passed in a palace (for the 
 demon Ennui cannot be expelled even from 
 the most brilliant; nay, prefers, it is said, to 
 select them for his abode); and we should 
 learn, that while an object of envy to thousands, 
 the mistress, or unacknowledged wife of le 
 Grand Monarque, was but little more happy 
 than the widow of Scarron when steeped in 
 poverty. 
 
 Madame de Maintenon discovered what 
 hundreds before and since have done — that 
 splendour and greatness cannot confer hap- 
 piness ; and, while trying to amuse a man 
 who, though possessed of sovereig^n power, 
 had lost all sense of enjoyment, must have 
 reverted, perhaps with a sigh, to the little 
 chamber in which she so long soothed the 
 sick bed of the witty octogenarian, Scarron; 
 who, gay and cheerful to the last, could make 
 
PARIS. 257 
 
 her smile by his sprightly and spirituel sal- 
 lies, which neither the evils of poverty nor 
 pain could subdue. 
 
 Perhaps this pincushion has lain on her 
 table when Madame de Maintenon listened 
 to the animating conversation of Racine, or 
 heard him read aloud, with that spirit and 
 deep pathos for which his reading was so 
 remarkable, his Esther and Athalie, pre- 
 viously to their performance at St. Cyr. 
 
 That she did not make his peace with the 
 king, when he offended him by writing an 
 essay to prove that long wars, however likely 
 to reflect glory on a sovereign, were sure to 
 entail misery on his subjects, shew^s that 
 either her influence over the mind of Louis 
 was much less powerful than has been be- 
 lieved, or that she was deficient in the feelings 
 that must have prompted her to exert it by 
 pleading for him. 
 
 The uno^enerous conduct of the king in 
 banishing from his court a man whose genius 
 
258 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 shed a purer lustre over it than all the hattles 
 Boileau has sung, and for a cause that 
 merited praise instead of displeasure, has 
 always appeared to me to he indicative of 
 great meanness as well as hardness of heart ; 
 and while lamenting the weakness of Racine, 
 originating in a morbid sensibility that ren- 
 dered his disgrace at court so painful and 
 humiliating to the poet as to cause his death, 
 I am still less disposed to pardon the sovereign 
 that could thus excite into undue action a 
 sensibility, the effects of which led its victim 
 to the grave. 
 
 The diamond - mounted tahatidre now on 
 my table once occupied a place on that of 
 the Marquise de Rambouillet, in that hotel 
 so celebrated, not only for the efforts made by 
 its coterie towards refining the manners and 
 morals of her day, but the language also, 
 until the affectation to which its members 
 carried their notions of purity, exposed them 
 to a ridicule that tended to subvert the in- 
 
PARIS. 259 
 
 fluence they had previously exercised over 
 societv. 
 
 Moliere — the inimitable Moliere — may have 
 been permitted the high distinction of taking 
 a pinch of snuff from it, while planning his 
 Precieuses Ridicules, which, malgre his disin- 
 genuous disavowal of the satire being aimed at 
 the Hotel Rambouillet, evidently found its 
 subject there. I cannot look at the snuff- 
 box without being reminded of the brilliant 
 circle which its former mistress assembled 
 around her, and among which Moliere had 
 such excellent opportunities of studying the 
 peculiarities of the class he subsequently 
 painted. 
 
 Little did its members imagine, when he 
 was admitted to it, the use he would make 
 of the privilege ; and great must have been 
 their surprise and mortification, though not 
 avowed, at the first representation of the 
 Precieuses Ridicules, in which manv of them 
 must have discovered the resemblance to 
 
260 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 themselves, though the clever author professed 
 only to ridicule their imitators. Les Femmes 
 Snvantes, though produced many years sub- 
 sequently, also found the originals of its 
 characters in the same source whence Moliere 
 painted Les Precieuses Ridicules, 
 
 I can fancy him slily listening to the theme 
 proposed to the assembly by Mademoiselle 
 Scudery — the Sarr aides, as she was styled 
 — " Whether a lover jealous, a ].over despised, 
 a lover separated from the object of his tender- 
 ness, or him who has lost her by death, was 
 to be esteemed the most unhappy ? " 
 
 At a later period of his life, Moliere might 
 have solved the question from bitter personal 
 experience, for few ever suffered more from 
 the pangs of jealousy, and assuredly no one 
 has painted with such vigour — though the 
 comic often prevails over the serious in his 
 delineations — the effects of a passion any 
 thing but comic to him. Strange power of 
 genius, to make others laugh at incidents 
 
PARIS. 
 
 261 
 
 which had often tormented himself, and to he 
 able to give humour to characters in various 
 comedies, actuated by the feelings to which 
 he had so frequently been a victim! 
 
 I can picture to myself the fair Julie 
 d'Angennes, who bestowed not her hand on 
 the Due de Montausier until he had served 
 as many years in seeking it as Jacob had 
 served to gain that of Rachel, and until she 
 had passed her thirtieth year (in order that 
 his passion should become as purified from 
 all grossness, as was the language spoken 
 among the circle in which she lived), re- 
 ceiving with dignified reserve the finely painted 
 flowers, and poems to illustrate them, which 
 formed the celebrated Guirlande de Julie, pre- 
 sented to her by her courtly admirer. 
 
 I see pass before me the fair and elegant 
 dames of that galaxy of wit and beauty, 
 Mesdames de Longueville, Lafayette, and de 
 Sevigne, fluttering their fans as they Hstened 
 and replied to the gallant compliments of 
 
262 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Voiture, Menage, Chapelain, Desmarets, or 
 De Reaux, or to the spirituelle causer re of 
 Chamfort. 
 
 What a pity that a society, no less useful 
 than brilliant at its commencement, should 
 have degenerated into a coterie, remarkable 
 at last but for its fantastic and false notions 
 of refinement, exhibited in a manner that 
 deserved the ridicule it called down! 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Spent last evening in the Rue d'Anjou : 
 met there la Marquise de Pouleprie, and the 
 usual habitues. She is a delightful person ; 
 for ao-e has neither chilled the warmth of her 
 heart, nor impaired the vivacity of her manners. 
 I had heard much of her ; for she is greatly 
 heloved hv the Duchesse de Guiche and all 
 the De Gramont family ; and she, knowing 
 their partiality to me, treated me rather as 
 an old than as a new acquaintance. 
 
 Talking of old times, to w^hich the Due de 
 Gramont reverted, the Marquise mentioned 
 having seen the celebrated Madame du Barry 
 in the garden at Versailles, when she (the 
 Marquise) was a very young girl. She de- 
 scribed her as havino^ a most animated and 
 
264 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 pleasant countenance, un petit nez reti^ousse, 
 brilliant eyes, full red lips, and as being 
 altogetlier a very attractive person. 
 
 The Marquise de Pouleprie accompanied the 
 French royal family to England, and remained 
 with them there during the emigration. She 
 told me that once going through the streets of 
 London in a carriage, with the French king, 
 during an election at Westminster, the mob, 
 iofnorant of his rank, insisted that he and his 
 servants should take off their hats, and cry 
 out '' Long live Sir Francis Burdett ! " which 
 his majesty did with great good humour, and 
 laughed heartily after. 
 
 Went last night to see Mademoiselle Mars, 
 in " Valerie." It was a finished performance, 
 and worthy of her high reputation. Never 
 was there so musical a voice as hers ! Every 
 tone of it goes direct to the heart, and its 
 intonations soothe and charm the ear. Her 
 countenance, too, is peculiarly expressive. Even 
 when her eyes, in the role she enacted last 
 
PARIS. 
 
 ^65 
 
 night, were fixed, and supposed to be sightless, 
 her countenance was still beautiful. There 
 is a harmony in its various expressions that 
 accords perfectly with her clear, soft, and 
 liquid voice ; and the united effect of both 
 these attractions renders her irresistible. 
 
 Never did Art so strongly resemble Nature 
 as in the actinof of this admirable artiste. 
 She identifies herself so completely with the 
 part she performs, that she not only believes 
 herself for the time being the heroine she 
 represents, but makes others do so too. There 
 was not a dry eye in the whole of the female 
 part of the audience last night — a homage to 
 her power that no other actress on the French 
 stao^e could now command. 
 
 The style, too, of iNIademoiselle Mars' 
 actinor is the most difficult of all; because 
 there is no exaoforeration, no violence in it. 
 The same difference exists between it and 
 that of other actresses, as between a highly 
 finished portrait and a glaringly coloured 
 
 VOL. I. N 
 
266 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 transparency. The feminine, the graceful, 
 and the natural, are never lost sight of for 
 a moment. 
 
 The French are admirable critics of acting, 
 and are keenly alive to the beauties of a chaste 
 and finished style, like that of Mademoiselle 
 Mars. In Paris there is no playing to the 
 galleries, and for a simple reason : — the occu- 
 pants of the galleries here are as fastidious 
 as those of the boxes, and any thing like 
 outraging nature would be censured by them : 
 whereas, in other countries, the broad and the 
 exaggerated almost invariably find favour with 
 the gods. 
 
 The same pure and refined taste that cha- 
 racterises the acting of Mademoiselle Mars 
 presides also over her toilette, which is always 
 appropriate and becoming. 
 
 Accustomed to the agreeable mixture of 
 literary men in London society, I observe, 
 with regret, their absence in that of Paris. 
 I have repeatedly questioned people why this 
 
PARIS. 267 
 
 is, but have never been able to obtain a satis- 
 factorv answer. It tells much at^ainst the 
 good taste of those who can give the tone to 
 society here, that literary men should be left 
 out of it ; and if the latter ivill not mingle 
 with the aristocratic circles they are to blame, 
 for the union of both is advantageous to the 
 interests of each. 
 
 Parisian society is very exclusive, and is 
 divided into small coteries, into which a 
 stranger finds it difficult to become initiated. 
 Large routes are rare, and not at all suited 
 to the tastes of the French people ; who com- 
 ment with merriment, if not T\dth ridicule, on 
 the evening parties in London, where the 
 rooms being too small to contain half the 
 guests invited, the stairs and ante-rooms are 
 filled by a crowd, in which not only the 
 power of conversing, but almost of respiring, 
 is impeded. 
 
 The French ladies attribute the want of 
 freshness so remarkable in the toilettes of 
 
268 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Englishwomen, to their crowded routes, and 
 the knowledge of its being impossible for a 
 robe, or at least of a greater portion of one 
 . than covers a bust, to be seen ; which induces 
 the fair wearers to economise, by rarely in- 
 dulging in new dresses. 
 
 At Paris certain ladies of distinction open 
 their salons, on one evening of each week, to a 
 circle of their acquaintance, not too numerous 
 to banish that ease and confidence which form 
 the delight of society. Each lady takes an 
 evening for her receptions, and no one in- 
 terferes with her arrangements by giving a 
 party on the same night. The individuals of 
 each circle are thus in the habit of being con- 
 tinually in each other's society ; consequently 
 the etiquette and formality, so genant among 
 acquaintances who seldom meet, are banished. 
 To preserve the charm of these uncere- 
 monious reunions, strangers are seldom ad- 
 mitted to them, but are invited to the balls, 
 dinners, or large parties, where they see 
 
PARIS. 
 
 269 
 
 French people en grande tenue, both in dress 
 and manner, instead of penetrating into the 
 more agreeable parties to which I have re- 
 ferred, where the graceful negligee of a demu 
 toilette prevails, and the lively causerie of the 
 habitues de maison supersedes the constraint 
 of ceremony. 
 
 Such a society is precisely the sort of one 
 that literary men would, I should suppose, 
 like to mingle in, to unbend their minds from 
 graver studies, and yet not pass their time 
 unprofitably ; for in it, politics, literature, 
 and the fine arts, generally furnish the topics 
 of conversation : from w^hich, however, the 
 warmth of discussion, which too frequently 
 renders politics a prohibited subject, is ex- 
 cluded, or the pedantry that sometimes spoils 
 literarv causerie is banished. 
 
 ml 
 
 French people, male and female, talk well ; 
 give their opinions with readiness and vivacity ; 
 often striking out ideas as original as they 
 are brilliant; highly suggestive to more pro- 
 
270 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 found thinkers, but which they dispense with 
 as much prodigality as a spendthrift throws 
 away his small coin, conscious of having more 
 at his disposal. Quick of perception, they 
 jump, rather than march, to a conclusion, at 
 which an Enolishman or a German would ar- 
 rive leisurely, enabled to tell all the particulars 
 of the route, but which the Frenchman would 
 know little of from having arrived by some 
 shorter road. This quickness of perception 
 exempts them from the necessity of devoting 
 much of the time and studv which the Enolish 
 or Germans employ in forming opinions, but 
 it also precludes their being able to reason as 
 justly or as gravely on those they form. 
 
 Walked in the gardens of the Tuileries to- 
 day. What a contrast their frequenters offer 
 to those of the Luxembourg! In the Tui- 
 leries, the promenaders look as if they only 
 walked there to display their tasteful dresses 
 and pretty persons. 
 
 The women eye each other as they pass. 
 
PARIS. 271 
 
 and can tell at a glance whether their respect- 
 ive chapeaux have come from the atelier of 
 Herbault, or the less recherche magasin des 
 lyiodes of some more humble modistes. How 
 rapidly can they see whether the Cashmere 
 shawl of some passing dame owes its rich but 
 sober tints to an Indian loom, or to the fabric 
 of M. Terneaux, who so skilfully imitates the 
 exotic luxury ; and what a difference does the 
 circumstance make in their estimation of the 
 wearer I The beauty of a woman, however 
 great it may be, excites less envy in the minds 
 of her own sex in France, than does the pos- 
 session of a fine Cashmere, or a garniture of 
 real Russian sable — objects of general desire 
 to every Parisian helle, 
 
 I met few handsome w^omen to-day, but 
 these few were remarkably striking. In Ken- 
 sington Gardens I should have encountered 
 thrice as many ; but there I should also have 
 seen more plain ones than here. Not that 
 Eno^lishwomen en masse are not better-lookinof 
 
272 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 than the French, hut that these last are so 
 skilful in concealing defects, and revealing 
 beauties by the appropriateness and good 
 taste in their choice of dress, that even the 
 plain cease to appear so ; and many a woman 
 looks piquant, if not pretty, at Paris, thanks 
 to her modiste, her couturidre, and her cor- 
 donnier, who, without their "artful aid," would 
 be plain indeed. 
 
 . It is pleasant to behold groups of well- 
 dressed women walking, as only French 
 women ever do walk, nimbly moving their 
 little feet Men cliausse, and with an air half 
 timid, half espiegle, that elicits the admiration 
 they affect to avoid. The rich and varied 
 material of their robes, the pretty chapenux, 
 from which peep forth such coquettish glances, 
 the modest assurance — for their self-possession 
 amounts precisely to that — and the ease and 
 elegance of their carriage, give them at- 
 tractions we might seek for in vain in the 
 women of other countries, however superior 
 
PARIS. 273 
 
 these last may be in beauty of complexion or 
 roundness of contour y for which French 
 women in general are not remarkable. 
 
 The men who frequent the gardens of the 
 Tuilleries are of a different order to those met 
 with in the Luxembourg. They consist chiefly 
 of military men and young fashionables, who 
 go to admire the pretty women, and elderly 
 and middle-aged ones, who meet in knots 
 and talk politics with all the animation pecu- 
 liar to their nation. Children do not abound 
 in the walks here, as in the Luxembourg; and 
 those to be seen are evidently brought by some 
 fond mother, proud of exhibiting her boys and 
 girls in their smart dresses. 
 
 The Tuilleries Gardens, so beautiful in sum- 
 mer, are not without their attractions in win- 
 ter. The trees, though leafless, look well, 
 rearing their tall branches towards the clear 
 sky, and the statues and vases seen throug-h 
 vistas of everofreen shrubs, with the grilded 
 railing w^hich gives back the rays of the bright, 
 
 N 2 
 
274" THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 though cold sun, and the rich velvets of every 
 hue in which the women are enveloped, giving 
 them the appearance of moving parterres of 
 dahlias, all render the scene a very exhila- 
 rating one to the spirits. 
 
 I observe a difference in the usao^es de 
 mosurs at Paris, and in those of London, of 
 which an ignorance might lead to give offence. 
 In England, a lady is expected to bow to a 
 gentleman before he presumes to do so to her, 
 thus leaving her the choice of acknowledging 
 his acquaintance, or not ; but in France it is 
 otherwise, for a man takes off his hat to every 
 woman whom he has ever met in society, 
 although he does not address her, unless she 
 encourages him to do so. 
 
 In Paris, if two men are walking or riding 
 together, and one of them bows to a lady of 
 his acquaintance, the other also takes off his 
 hat, as a mark of respect to the lady known 
 to his friend, although he is not acquainted 
 with her. The mode of salutation is also 
 
PARIS. 270 
 
 much more deferential towards women in 
 France than in England. The hat is held 
 a second lonoer off the head, the bow is 
 lower, and the smile of recognition is more 
 aimahle^ by which, I mean, that it is meant 
 to display the pleasure experienced by the 
 meetinor. 
 
 It is true that the really well-bred English- 
 men are not to be surpassed in politeness and 
 good manners by those of any other country, 
 but aU are not such ; and I have seen mstances 
 of men in London acknowledging "the presence 
 of ladies, by merely touching, instead of taking 
 off, their hats when bowing to them ; and 
 thouD^h I accounted for this solecism in o-ood 
 breeding by the belief that it proceeded 
 from the persons practising it wearing wigs, 
 I discovered that there was not even so 
 good an excuse as the fear of deranging 
 them, and that their incivility proceeded 
 from io'norance, or nonchalance, while the 
 glum countenance of him who bowed betrayed 
 
276 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 rather a regret for the necessity of touching 
 his beaver, than a pleasure at meeting her for 
 whom the salute was intended. 
 
 Time flies away rapidly here, and its flight 
 seems to me to mark two distinct states of 
 existence. My mornings are devoted AvhoUy 
 to reading history, poetry, or belles letfres, 
 which abstract me so completely from the 
 actual present to the past, that the hours so 
 disposed of appear to be the actual life, and 
 those given up to society the shadowy and 
 unreal. 
 
 This forcible contrast between the two por- 
 tions of the same day, give& charms to both, 
 though I confess the hours passed in my 
 library are those which leave behind them the 
 pleasantest reflections. I experienced this 
 sentiment when in the hey-day of youth, and 
 surrounded by some of the most gifted persons 
 in England ; but now, as age advances, the 
 love of solitude and repose increases, and a 
 life spent in study appears to me to be the 
 
PARIS. 277 
 
 one of all others tlie most desirable, as the 
 enjoyment of the best thoughts of the best au- 
 thors is preferable even to their conversation, 
 could it be had, and, consequently to that of 
 the cleverest men to be met with in society. 
 
 Some pleasant people dined here yesterday. 
 Among them was Colonel Caradoc, the son of 
 our old friend Lord Howden. He possesses 
 great and versatile information, is good-look- 
 ing, well-bred, and has superior abilities ; in 
 short, he has all the means, and appliances to 
 boot, to make a distinguished figure in life, if 
 he lacks not the ambition and enero-v to use 
 them ; but, born to station and fortune, he 
 may want the incitement which the absence of 
 these advantages furnishes, and be content to 
 enjoy the good he already has, instead of 
 seeking greater distinction. 
 
 Colonel Caradoc's conversation is brilliant 
 and epigrammatic ; and if occasionally a too 
 evident consciousness of his owti powers is 
 sufibred to be revealed in it, those who know 
 
278 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 it to be well-founded will pardon his self-com- 
 placency, and not join with the persons, and 
 they are not few, whose amour propre is 
 wounded by the display of his, and who ques- 
 tion, what really is not questionable, the foun- 
 dation on which his pretensions are based. 
 
 The clever, like the handsome, to be par- 
 doned for being so, should aifect a hmnility 
 they are but too seldom in the habit of feeling ; 
 and to acquire popularity must appear un- 
 conscious of meriting it. This is one of the 
 many penalties entailed on the gifted in mind 
 or person. 
 
 January 1st, 1829. — There is always some- 
 thing grave, if not awful, in the openmg of a 
 new year ; for who knows what may occur 
 to render it memorable for ever ! If the by- 
 gone one has been marked by aught sad, the 
 arrival of the new reminds one of the lapse 
 of time ; and though the destroyer brings 
 patience, we sigh to think that we may have 
 new occasions for its difficult exercise. Who 
 
PARIS. 279 
 
 can forbear from trembling lest the opening 
 year may find us at its close with a lessened 
 circle. Some, now dear and confided in, may 
 become estranged, or one dearer than life may 
 Jdc snatched away whose place never can be 
 supplied! The thought is too painful to be 
 borne, and makes one look around with in- 
 creased aflPection on those dear to us. 
 
 The custom prevalent at Paris of offering 
 an exchano^e of o^ifts on the first dav of 
 the new year was, perhaps, originally intended 
 to banish the melancholy reflections such an 
 epoch is calculated to awaken. 
 
 My tables are so crowded with gifts that I 
 might set up d^ petit Dunkerque of my own, for 
 not a single fi'iend has omitted to send me a 
 present. These gifts are to be acknowledged 
 by ones of similar value, and I must go and put 
 mv taste to the test in selectino^ cadeaux to send 
 in return. 
 
 Spent several hours yesterday in the gallery 
 of the Louvi'e. The collection of antiquities, 
 
280 . THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 thougli a very rich one, dwindles into insig- 
 nificance, when compared with that of the 
 Vatican, and the halls in which it is arranged 
 appear mean in the eyes of those accustomed 
 to see the numerous and splendid ones of the 
 Roman edifice. Nevertheless, I felt much 
 satisfaction in lounging through groups of sta- 
 tues, and busts of the remarkable men and 
 women of antiquity, wdth the countenances of 
 many of whom I had made myself familiar 
 in the Vatican, the Musee of the Capitol, or 
 in the collection at Naples, where facsimiles 
 of several of them are to be found. 
 
 Nor had I less pleasure in contemplating 
 the personifications of the heau ideal of the 
 ancient sculptors, exhibited in their gods 
 and goddesses, in whose faultless faces the 
 expression of all passion seems to have been 
 carefully avoided. Whether this peculiarity 
 is to be accounted for by the desire of the 
 artist to signify the superiority of the Pagan 
 divinities over mortals, by this absence of 
 
PARIS. 281 
 
 any trace of earthly feelings, or whether it 
 was thought that any decided expression 
 might deteriorate from the character of 
 repose and beauty that marks the works of 
 the great sculptors of antiquity, I know not, 
 but the effect produced on my mind by the 
 contemplation of these calm and beautiful 
 faces, has something so soothing in it, that 
 I can well imagine with what pleasure those 
 engaged in the turmoils of war, or the scarcely 
 less exciting arena of politics, in former ages, 
 must have turned from their mundane cares 
 to look on these personations of their fabled 
 deities, whose tranquil beauty forms so sooth- 
 ing a contrast to mortal toils. 
 
 I have observed this calmness of expression 
 in the faces of many of the most celebrated 
 statues of antiquity. In the Aristides at 
 Naples, I remember being struck with it, 
 and noticing that he who was banished 
 through the envy excited by his being styled 
 the Just, was represented as unmoved as if 
 
282 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the injustice of his countrymen no more 
 affected the even tenour of his mind, than 
 the passions of mortals disturb those of the 
 mythological divinities of the ancients. 
 
 A long residence in Italy, and a habit of 
 frequenting the galleries containing the finest 
 works of art there, engender a love of 
 sculpture and painting, that renders it not 
 only a luxury but almost a necessary of life to 
 pass some hours occasionally among the all 
 but breathing marbles and glorious pictures 
 bequeathed to posterity by the mighty artists 
 of old. I love to pass such hours alone, or 
 in the society of some one as partial, but 
 more skilled in such studies than myself; 
 and such a companion I have found in the 
 Baron Cailleux, an old acquaintance, and now 
 Under - Director of the Musee, whose know- 
 ledge of the fine arts equals his love for them. 
 
 The contemplation of the chefs-d^ ceuvre of 
 the old masters begets a tender melancholy in 
 the mind, that is not without a charm for those 
 
PARIS. 283 
 
 addicted to it. These stand the results of 
 long lives devoted to the developement of the 
 genius that embodied these inspirations, and 
 left to the world the fruit of hours of toil and 
 seclusion, — hours snatched from the tempting 
 pleasures that cease not to court the senses, 
 but which they who laboured for posterity 
 resisted. The long vigils, the solitary days, 
 the hopes and fears, the fears more frequent 
 than the hopes, the depression of spirits, and 
 the injustice or the indifference of contempo- 
 raries, endured by all who have ever devoted 
 their lives to art, are present to my mind when 
 I behold the great works of other times. 
 
 What cheered these men of genius during 
 their toils and enabled them to finish their 
 glorious works? Was it not the hope that 
 from posterity they would meet with the ad- 
 miration, the sympathy, denied them by their 
 contemporaries ? — as the prisoner in his gloomy 
 dungeon, refused all pity, seeks consolation 
 
284 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 by tracing a few lines on its dreary walls, 
 in appeal to the sympathy of some future 
 inhabitant who may be doomed to take his 
 place. 
 
 I seem to be paying a portion of the debt 
 due by posterity to those who laboured long 
 and painfully for it, when I stand rapt 
 in admiration before the works of the great 
 masters of the olden time, my heart touched 
 with a lively sympathy for their destinies; 
 nor can I look on the glorious faces or glow- 
 ing landscapes that remain to us, evincing 
 the triumph of genius over even time itself, 
 by preserving on canvass the semblance of 
 all that charmed in nature, without expe- 
 riencing the sentiment so naturally and beau- 
 tifully expressed in the celebrated picture, by 
 Nicolas Poussin, of a touching scene in Arca- 
 dia, in which is a tomb near to which two shep- 
 herds are reading the inscription, " I, too, was 
 an Arcadian." 
 
PARIS. ^85 
 
 Yes, that which delighted the artists of 
 old, they have transmitted to us with a tender 
 confidence that when contemplating these 
 bequests we would remember with sympathy 
 that they, like us, had felt the charms they 
 delineated. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Went to see the Hotel d'Orsay, to-day. 
 Even in its ruin it still retains many of the 
 vestiges of its former splendour. The salle 
 a manger, for the decoration of which its 
 owner bought, and had conveyed from Rome, 
 the columns of the Temple of Nero, is now — - 
 hear it, ye who have taste! — converted into 
 a stable ; the salons, once filled with the most 
 precious works of art, are now crumbled to 
 decay, and the vast garden where bloomed 
 the rarest exotics, and in which were several 
 of the statues that are now in the gardens 
 of the Tuilleries, is now turned into paddocks 
 for horses. 
 
 It made me sad to look at this scene of 
 devastation, the result of a revolution which 
 plunged so many noble families from almost 
 
PARIS. ^87 
 
 boundless wealth into comparative poverty, and 
 scattered collections of the works of art that 
 whole lives were passed in forming. I remem- 
 ber Mr. Millingen, the antiquary, telling me 
 in Italy that when yet little more than a boy 
 he was taken to view the Hotel d'Orsay, then 
 one of the most magnificent houses in Paris, 
 and containing the finest collection of pictures 
 and statues, and that its splendour made such 
 an impression on his mind that he had never 
 forgotten it. 
 
 With an admirable taste' and a princely 
 fortune, Count d'Orsay spared neither trouble 
 nor expense to render his house the focus of 
 all that was rich and rare ; and, with a spirit 
 that does not always animate the possessor 
 of rare works of art, he opened it to the 
 young artists of the day, who were permitted 
 to study in its gallery and salons. 
 
 In the state drawing-rooms a fanciful notion 
 of the Count's was carried into effect and was 
 greatly admired, though, I believe, owing to 
 
288 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the great expense, the mode was not adopted 
 in other houses, namely, on the folding -doors 
 of the suite heing thrown open to admit com- 
 pany, certain pedals connected with them were 
 put in motion, and a strain of music was pro- 
 duced, which announced the presence of guests, 
 and the doors of each of the drawing-rooms 
 when opened took up the air, and continued 
 it until closed. 
 
 Many of the old noblesse have heen de- 
 scribing the splendour of the Hotel d'Orsay 
 to me since I have been at Paris, and the 
 Due de Talleyrand said it almost realised 
 the notion of a fairy palace. Could the owner 
 who expended such vast sums on its decora- 
 tion, behold it in its present ruin, he could 
 never recognise it; but such would be the 
 case with many a one whose stately palaces 
 became the prey of a furious rabble, let 
 loose to pillage by a revolution — that most 
 fearful of all calamities, pestilence only ex- 
 cepted, that can befall a country. 
 
PARIS. 289 
 
 General Ornano, his stepson Count Waleski, 
 M. Achille la Marre, General d'Orsay, and 
 Mr. Francis Baring, dined here yesterday. 
 General Ornano is agreeable and well- 
 mannered. We had music in the evening, 
 
 and the lively and pretty Madame la H 
 
 came. She is greatly admired, and no wonder; 
 for she is not only handsome, but clever and 
 piquant. Hers does not appear to be a 
 
 well - assorted marriage, for M. la H 
 
 is grave, if not austere, in his manners ; while 
 she is full of gaiety and vivacity, the demon- 
 strations of which seem to give him any thing 
 but pleasure. 
 
 I know not which is most to be pitied, 
 a saturnine husband whose gravity is only 
 increased by the gaiety of his wife, or the 
 gay wife whose exuberance of spirits finds 
 no sympathy in the Mentor -like husband. 
 Half, if not all, the unhappy marriages, 
 accounted for by incompatibility of humour, 
 might with more correctness be attributed to 
 
 VOL. I. o 
 
290 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 a total misunderstanding of each other's cha- 
 racters and dispositions in the parties who 
 drag a heavy and galling chain through life, 
 the links of which might be rendered light 
 and easy to be borne, if the wearers took 
 but half the pains to comprehend each other's 
 peculiarities that they in general do to re- 
 proach or to resent the annoyance these pecu- 
 liarities occasion them. 
 
 An austere man would learn that the 
 gaiety of his wife was as natural and excus- 
 able a peculiarity in her, as was his gravity 
 in him, and consequently would not resent 
 it; and the lively wife would view the saturnine 
 humour of her husband as a malady demand- 
 ing forbearance and kindness. 
 
 The indissolubility of marriage, so often 
 urged as an additional cause for aggravating 
 the sense of annoyance experienced by those 
 wedded but unsuited to each other, is, in 
 my opinion, one of the strongest motives for 
 using every endeavour to render the union 
 
PARIS. 291 
 
 supportable, if not agreeable. If a dwelling 
 known to be unalienable has some defect 
 which makes it unsuited to the taste of its 
 owner, he either ameliorates it, or, if that be 
 impracticable, he adopts the resolution of 
 supporting its inconvenience with patience ; 
 so should a philosophical mind bear all that 
 displeases in a union in which even the most 
 fortunate find " something to pity or forgive." 
 It is unfortunate that this same philosophy, 
 considered so excellent a panacea for enabling 
 us to bear ills, should be so rarely used that 
 people can seldom judge of its efficacy when 
 required ! 
 
 Saw La Gazza Ladra last night, in which 
 Malibran enacted "Ninetta," and added new 
 laurels to the wreath accorded her by public 
 opinion. Her singing in the duo, in the 
 prison scene, was one of the most touching 
 performances I ever heard; and her acting 
 gave a fearful reality to the picture. 
 
 I have been reading the Calamities of Au- 
 thors all the morning, and find I like the book 
 
292 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 even better on a second perusal — no mean 
 praise, for the first greatly pleased me. So 
 it is with all the works of Mr. D'Israeli, who 
 writes con amove; and not only with a pro- 
 found knowledge of his subjects, but with a 
 deep sympathy, which peeps forth at every 
 line, for the literary men whose troubles or 
 peculiarities he describes. 
 
 His must be a fine nature — a contempla- 
 tive mind imbued with a true love of litera- 
 ture, and a kindness of heart that melts and 
 makes those of others melt, for the evils to 
 which its votaries are exposed. 
 
 How much are those who like reading, but are 
 too idle for research, indebted to Mr. D'Israeli, 
 w^ho has given them the precious result of a 
 long life of study, so admirably digested and 
 beautifully conveyed that in a few volumes 
 are condensed a mass of the most valuable 
 information! I never peruse a production 
 of his without longing to be personally ac- 
 quainted with him; and, though we never 
 met, I entertain a regard and respect for 
 
PARIS. 293 
 
 him, induced by the many pleasant hours 
 his works have afforded me. 
 
 ]\Iet the Princesse de Talleyrand last night 
 
 at Madame C 's. I felt curious to see 
 
 this lady, of whom I had heard such various 
 reports; and, as usual, found her very dif- 
 ferent to the descriptions I had received. 
 
 She came en jmncesse, attended by two 
 dames de compagnie, and a gentleman who 
 acted as chambellan. Though her embon- 
 point has not only destroyed her shape but 
 has also deteriorated her face, the small 
 features of which seem imbued in a mask 
 much too fleshy for their proportions, it is 
 easy to see that in her youth she must have 
 been handsome. Her complexion is fair ; her 
 hair, judging from the eye-brows and eye- 
 lashes, must have been very hght; her eyes 
 are blue; her nose, retrousse; her mouth 
 small, with full lips ; and the expression of her 
 countenance is agreeable, though not intel- 
 lectual. 
 
294 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 In her demeanour there is an evident 
 assumption of dignity, which, falling short 
 of the aim, gives an ungraceful stiffness to 
 her appearance. Her dress was rich but 
 suited to her age, which I should pronounce 
 to be about sixty. Her manner has the 
 formality peculiar to those conscious of occu- 
 pying a higher station than their birth or 
 education entitles them to hold; and this 
 consciousness gives an air of constraint and 
 reserve that curiously contrasts with the 
 natural o^ood- humour and naivete that are 
 frequently perceptible in her. 
 
 If ignorant — as is asserted — there is no 
 symptom of it in her language. To be sure, 
 she says little ; but that little is expressed 
 with propriety: and if reserved, she is scru- 
 pulously polite. Her dames de compagnie 
 and chamhellan treat her with profound 
 respect, and she acknowledges their attentions 
 with civility. To sum up all, the impression 
 made upon me by the Princesse Talleyrand 
 
PARIS. 295 
 
 was, that she diiFered in no way from any 
 other princesse I had ever met, except by 
 a greater degree of reserve and formality 
 than were in general evinced by them. 
 
 I could not help smiling inwardly when 
 looking at her, as I remembered Baron 
 Denon's amusing story of the mistake she 
 once made. AYhen the Baron's work on 
 Eg-^-pt was the topic of general conversation, 
 and the hotel of the Prince Talleyrand was 
 the rendezvous of the most distinguished 
 persons of both sexes at Paris, Denon being 
 eno-ao^ed to dine there one dav, the Prince 
 wished the Princesse to read a few pages 
 of the book, in order that she mio^ht be 
 enabled to say something complimentary on 
 it to the author. He consequently ordered 
 his librarian to send the work to her apart- 
 ment on the morning of the day of the 
 dinner; but, unfortunately, at the same time 
 also commanded that a copy of Robinson 
 Crusoe should be sent to a young lady, a 
 
296 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 protegee of hers, who resided in the hotel. 
 The Baron Denon's woi'k, through mistake, 
 was ofiven to Mademoiselle, and Robinson 
 Crusoe was delivered to the Princesse, who 
 rapidly looked through its pages. 
 
 The seat of honour at table being assigned 
 to the Baron, the Princesse, mindful of her 
 husband's wishes, had no sooner eaten her 
 soup than, smiling graciously, she thanked 
 Denon for the pleasure which the perusal 
 of his work had afforded her. The author 
 was pleased, and told her how much he 
 felt honoured ; but judge of his astonish- 
 ment, and the dismay of the Prince Talley- 
 rand, when the Princesse exclaimed, " Yes, 
 Monsieur le Baron, your work has delighted 
 me ; but I am lono^ino^ to know what has 
 become of your poor man Friday, about 
 whom I feel such an interest ? " 
 
 Denon used to recount this anecdote with 
 great spirit, confessing at the same time that 
 his amour propre as an author had been for a 
 
PARIS. Wl 
 
 moment flattered by the commendation, even 
 of a person universally known to be incom- 
 petent to pronounce on the merit of his book. 
 The Emperor Napoleon heard this story, and 
 made Baron Denon repeat it to him, laughing 
 immoderately all the time, and frequently after 
 he would, when he saw Denon, inquire ** how 
 was poor Friday ?" 
 
 When the second restoration of the Bour- 
 bons took place, the Prince Talleyrand, anxi- 
 ous to separate from the Princesse, and to 
 get her out of his house, induced her, under 
 the pretence that a change of air was abso- 
 lutely necessary for her health, to go to 
 England for some months. She had only 
 been there a few wrecks when a confidential 
 friend at Paris wrote to inform her that from 
 certain rumours afloat it was quite clear the 
 Prince did not intend her to take up her 
 abode ao^ain in his house, and advised her to 
 return without delay. The Princesse in- 
 stantly adopted this counsel, and arrived most 
 
 o 2 
 
298 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 unexpectedly in the Rue St. Florentin, to 
 the alarm and astonishment of the whole es- 
 tablishment there, who had been taught not 
 to look for her entering the hotel any more ; 
 and to the utter dismay of the Prince, who, 
 however anxious to be separated from her, 
 dreaded a scene of violence still more than 
 he wished to be released from his conjugal 
 chains. 
 
 She forced her admission to his presence, 
 overwhelmed him with reproaches, and it 
 required the exercise of all his diplomatic 
 skill to allay the storm he had raised. The 
 affair became the general topic of conversa- 
 tion at Paris ; and when, the day after the 
 event, the Prince waited on Louis the 
 Eighteenth on affairs of state, the King, who 
 loved a joke, congratulated him on the unex- 
 pected arrival of Madame la Princesse. 
 
 Prince Talleyrand felt the sarcasm, and 
 noticed it by one of those smiles so peculiar 
 to him — a shake of the head and shrug of 
 
PARIS. 299 
 
 the shoulders, while he uttered *' Que voulez- 
 vous, sire — cliacun a son vingt Marsf re- 
 ferring to the unexpected arrival of the Em- 
 peror Napoleon. 
 
 I have been reading Yes and No, a very 
 clever and interesting novel from the pen of 
 Lord Normanby. His writings evince great 
 knowledge of the world, the work-o'-day world, 
 as well as the beau monde ; yet there is no 
 bitterness in his satire, which is always just 
 and happily pointed. His style, too, is easy, 
 fluent, and polished, without being disfigured 
 by the slightest affectation or pedantry. 
 
 Had a long visit to-day from Dr. P , 
 
 who has lent me the works of Bichat and 
 Broussais, which he recommends me to read. 
 He is a most agreeable companion, and as 
 vivacious as if he was only twenty. He 
 reminds me sometimes of my old fi^iend Lady 
 Dysart, whose juvenility of mind and mannei: 
 * always pleased as much as it surprised me. 
 
 Old people like these appear to forget, as 
 
300 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 they are forgotten by, time; and, like trees 
 marked to be cut down, but which escape 
 the memory of the marker, they continue to 
 flourish though the lines traced for their 
 destruction are visible. 
 
 The more I see of Count Waleski the more 
 I am pleased with him. He has an acute 
 mind, great quickness of perception, and ex- 
 ceedingly good manners. I always consider 
 it a good sign of a young man to be ^partial 
 to the society of the old, and I observe that 
 Count Waleski evinces a preference for that 
 of men old enough to be his father. People 
 are not generally aware of the advantages 
 which agreeable manners confer, and the in- 
 fluence they exercise over society. I have 
 seen great abilities fail in producing the efifect 
 accomplished by prepossessing manners, which 
 are even more serviceable to their owner than 
 is a fine countenance, that best of all letters 
 of recommendation. 
 
 Half the unpopularity of people proceeds 
 
PARIS. 301 
 
 from a disagreeable manner ; and though we 
 may be aware of the good qualities of persons 
 who have this defect, we cannot conce^il from 
 ourselves that it must always originate in a 
 want of the desire to please — a want, the 
 evidence of which cannot fail to wound the 
 self-love of those who detect, and indispose 
 them towards those who betray it. By a dis- 
 agreeable manner I do not mean the awk- 
 wardness often arising from timidity, or the 
 too great familiarity originating in untutored 
 good nature : but I refer to a supercilious- 
 ness, or coldness, that marks a sense of su- 
 periority ; or to a habit of contradiction, that 
 renders society what it should never be — an 
 arena of debate. 
 
 How injudicious are those who defend their 
 absent friends, when accused of having dis- 
 agreeable manners, by saying, as I have often 
 heard persons say — *' I assure you that he 
 or she can be very agreeable with those he 
 or she likes :" an assertion which, by implying 
 
302 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 that the person accused did not like those 
 who complained of the bad manner, converts 
 them from simple disapprovers into something 
 approaching to enemies. 
 
 I had once occasion to notice the fine tact 
 of a friend of mine, who, hearing a person 
 he greatly esteemed censured for his disagree- 
 able manner, answered, " Yes, it is very true : 
 with a thousand good qualities his manner 
 is very objectionable, even with those he likes 
 best : it is his misfortune, and he cannot help 
 it ; but those who know him well will pardon it." 
 
 This candid admission of what could not 
 be refuted, checked all further censure at the 
 moment, whereas an injudicious defence would 
 have lengthened it j and I heard some of the 
 individuals then present assert, a few days 
 
 subsequently, that Lord was not, after 
 
 all, by any means to be disliked : for that his 
 manners were equally objectionable even with 
 his most esteemed friends, and consequently 
 meant nothing uncivil to strangers. 
 
PARIS. 303 
 
 I tried this soothing system the other day 
 
 in defence of , when a whole circle were 
 
 attacking him for his rude habit of contradict- 
 ing, by asserting, with a grave face, that he 
 only contradicted those whose talents he sus- 
 pected, in order that he might draw them 
 out in discussion. 
 
 came in soon after, and it was posi- 
 tively amusing to observe how much better 
 
 people bore his contradiction. Madame 
 
 only smiled when, having asserted that it was 
 a remarkably fine day, he declared it to be 
 
 abominable. The Due de looked gra- 
 
 •cious when, having repeated some political 
 
 news, said he could prove the contrary 
 
 to be the fact ; and the Comtesse de 
 
 looked archly round when, having extrava- 
 gantly praised a new novel, he pronounced 
 that it was the worst of all the bad ones of 
 the author. 
 
 will become a popular man, and have 
 
 to thank me for it. How angry would he be 
 
304 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 if he knew the service I have rendered him, 
 and how quickly would he contradict all I said 
 in his favour ! reminds me of the En- 
 glishman of whom it w^as said, that so great 
 was his love of contradiction, that when the 
 hour of the nioht and state of the weather 
 were announced hy the watchman beneath his 
 window, he used to get out of bed and raise 
 both his casement and his voice to protest 
 against the accuracy of the statement. 
 
 Read Pelham ; commenced it yesterday, and 
 concluded it to-day. It is a new style of novel, 
 and, like all that is very clever, will lead to 
 many copyists. The writer possesses a fe- 
 licitous fluency of language, profQund and just 
 thoughts, and a knowledge of the world rarely 
 acquired at his age, for I am told he is a very 
 young man. 
 
 This work combines pointed and pungent 
 satire on the follies of society, a deep vein of 
 elevated sentiment, and a train of philosophical 
 thinking, seldom, if ever, allied to the ten- 
 
PARIS. 305 
 
 derness which pierces through the sentimental 
 part. The opening reminded me of that 
 of Anastatius, without being in the slightest 
 degree an imitation ; and many of the passages 
 recalled Voltaire, by their wit and terseness. 
 
 I, who don't like reading novels, heard so 
 much in favour of this one — for all Paris talk 
 of it — that I broke through a resolution 
 
 formed since I read the dull book of , 
 
 to read no more ; and I am glad I did so, for 
 this clever book has greatly interested me. 
 
 Oh, the misery of having stupid books pre- 
 sented to one by the author! , who is 
 
 experienced in such matters, told me that 
 the best plan in such cases was, to acknow- 
 ledge the receipt of the book the same day 
 it arrived, and civilly express the pleasure 
 anticipated from its perusal, by which means 
 the necessity of praising a bad book w^as 
 avoided. This system has, however, been 
 so generally adopted of late, that authors 
 are dissatisfied with it; and, consequently, a 
 
306 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 good-natured person often feels compelled to 
 write commendations of books which he or 
 she is far from approving ; and which, though 
 it costs an effort to write, are far from satisfying 
 the exigeant amour propi^e peculiar to authors. 
 
 I remember once being present when the 
 merits of a book were canvassed. One person 
 declared it to be insufferably dull, when an- 
 other, who had published some novel, observed, 
 with rather a supercilious air, " You know not 
 how difficult it is to write a good book ! " 
 
 *'I suppose it must be very difficult," was 
 the answer, " seeing how long and how often 
 you have attempted, without succeeding." 
 
 How these letters of commendations of bad 
 books, extorted from those to whom the au- 
 thors present them, will rise up in judgment 
 against the writers, when they are "gone to 
 that bourne whence no traveller returns ! " I 
 tremble to think of it! What severe ani- 
 madversions on the bad taste, or the want of 
 candour of the writers, and all because they 
 
PARIS. 307 
 
 were too good-natured to give pain to the 
 authors ! 
 
 Went to the Theatre Italien last night, and 
 saw Malibran in La Cenerentola, in which 
 her actinof was no less admirable than her 
 singing. She sang " Non piu Mesta " better 
 than I ever heard it before, and astonished 
 as well as delio^hted the audience. She has 
 a soul and spirit in her style that carries away 
 her hearers, as no other singer does, and ex- 
 cites an enthusiasm seldom, if ever, equalled. 
 Malibran seems to be as little mistress of 
 her ovm emotions when singing, as those are 
 whom her thrilling voice melts into softness, 
 or wakes into passion. Every tone is preg- 
 nant with feeling, and every glance and atti- 
 tude instinct with truthful emotion. 
 
 A custom prevails in France, which is not 
 practised in Italy, or in England, namely, les 
 lettres de faire part, sent to announce deaths, 
 marriao^es, and births, to the circle of ac- 
 quaintances of the parties. This formality is 
 
308 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 never omitted, and these printed letters are 
 sent out to all on the visiting lists, except 
 relations, or very intimate friends, to whom 
 autograph letters are addressed. 
 
 Another custom also prevails, which is that 
 of sending hon-hons to the friends and ac- 
 quaintances of the accouchee. These sweet 
 proofs d*amitw come pouring in frequently, 
 and I confess I do not dislike the usage. 
 
 The godfather always sends the bon-bons and 
 a trinket to the mother of the child, and also 
 presents the godmother with a corbeille, in 
 which are some dozens of gloves, two or three 
 handsome fans, emhroidered purses, a smelling- 
 hottle, and a vinaigrette ; and she offers him, 
 en revanche, a cane, buttons, or a pin — in short, 
 some present. The corbeilles given to god- 
 mothers are often very expensive, being suited 
 to the rank of the parties ; so that in Paris the 
 compliment of being selected as a godfather 
 entails no trifling expense on the chosen. The 
 great prices given for wedding trousseaux in 
 
PARIS. 309 
 
 France, even by those who are not rich, sur- 
 prise me, I confess. 
 
 They contain a superabundance of every 
 article supposed to be necessary for the toi- 
 lette of a nonvelle onariee, from the rich robes 
 of velvet down to the simple peignoir de ma- 
 tin. Dresses of every description and material, 
 and for all seasons, are found in it. Cloaks, 
 furs, Cashmere shawls, and all that is required 
 for night or day use, are liberally supplied ; 
 indeed, so much so, that to see one of these 
 trousseaux, one might imagine the person for 
 whom it was intended was going to pass her 
 life in some far-distant clime, where there 
 would be no hope of finding similar articles, 
 if ever wanted. 
 
 Then comes the corheille de mariage, well 
 stored with the finest laces, the most delicately 
 embroidered pocket handkerchiefs, \eih, ^chus, 
 chemisettes and canezous, trinkets, smelling- 
 bottles, fans, vinaigrettes, gloves, garters ; and 
 though last, not least, a purse well filled to 
 
310 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 meet the wants or wishes of the hride, — a 
 judicious attention never omitted. 
 
 These trousseaux and corbeilles are placed 
 in a salon, and are exhibited to the friends the 
 two or three days previously to the wedding ; 
 and the view of them often sends young maid- 
 ens — ay, and elderly ones, too — away with 
 an anxious desire to enter that holy state 
 which ensures so many treasures. It is not 
 fair to hold out such temptations to the un- 
 married, and may be the cause why they are 
 generally so desirous to quit the pale of single 
 blessedness. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Count Charles de Mornay dined here 
 yesterday, enfamille. How clever and amusing 
 he is ! Even in his liveliest sallies there is 
 the evidence of a mind that can reflect deeply, 
 as well as clothe its thoughts in the happiest 
 language. To he witty, yet thoroughly good- 
 natured as he is, never exercising his wit at 
 the expense of others, indicates no less kind- 
 ness of heart than talent. 
 
 I know few things more agreeahle than 
 to hear him and his cousin open the armoury 
 of their wit, which, like summer lightning, 
 flashes rapidly and hrightly, hut never wounds. 
 In England, we are apt to consider wit and 
 
312 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 satire as nearly synonymous; for we hear 
 of the clever sayings of our reputed wits, 
 in nine cases out of ten, allied to some ill- 
 natured hon mot, or pointed epigram. In 
 France this is not the case, for some of the 
 most witty men, and women too, whom I 
 ever knew, are as remarkable for their good 
 nature as for their cleverness. That wit 
 which needs not the spur of malice is cer- 
 tainly the best, and is most frequently met 
 with at Paris. 
 
 Went last evening to see Mademoiselle 
 Mars in Henri IIL Her acting was, as usual, 
 inimitable. I was disappointed in the piece, 
 of which I had heard much praise. It is 
 what the French call decousue, but is inter- 
 esting as a picture of the manners of the times 
 which it represents. There is no want of 
 action or bustle in it ; on the contrar}", it 
 abounds in incidents : but they are, for the 
 most part, puerile. As in our own Othello, a 
 
PARIS. 313 
 
 pocket handkerchief leads to the denoumenty 
 reminding one of the truth of the verse, — 
 
 " What great events from trivial causes spring ! " 
 
 The whole court of Henrv the Third are 
 brought on the scene, and with an attention to 
 costume to be found only in a Parisian theatre. 
 This strict attention to costume, and to all the 
 other accessories appertaining to the epoch, mis 
 en scene^ is very advantageous to the pieces 
 brouofht out here ; but, even should thev fail 
 to give or preserve an illusion, it is always 
 highly interesting as oiFering a tableau de cos- 
 tume, et des mceurs des siScIes passes. The 
 crowd brouci^ht on the stao^e in Henri IIL, 
 though it adds to the splendour of the scenic 
 effect, produces a confusion in the plot ; as 
 does also the vast number of names and titles 
 introduced durino^ the scenes, which fatio'ue 
 the attention and defy the memory of the 
 spectators. 
 
 The fierce "Due de Guise," the slave at once 
 
 VOL. I. p 
 
314 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of two passions, generally considered to be the 
 most incompatible, Love and Ambition, is 
 made to commit strange inconsistencies. " Saint 
 Megrin" excites less interest than he ought;, 
 but the " Duchesse de Guise," whose beautiful 
 arm plays a grand role, must, as played by 
 Mademoiselle Mars, have conquered all hearts 
 vi et ai^mis, 
 
 Henri IIL has the most brilliant success, 
 and, in despite of some faults, is full of genius, 
 and the language is vigorous. Perhaps its 
 very faults are to be attributed to an excess, 
 rather than to a want, of power, and to a mind 
 overflowing with a knowledge of the times he 
 wished to represent; which led to a dilution 
 of the strength of his scenes, by crowding into 
 them too much extraneous matter. 
 
 A curious incident occurred during the 
 representation. Two ladies — gentlewomen 
 they could not be correctly styled — being 
 seated in the balcon, were brought in closer 
 contact, whether by the crowd, or otherwise, 
 
PARIS. 315 
 
 than was ao^reeable to them. From remon- 
 strances they proceeded to murmurs, not only 
 *'loud, but deep," and from murmurs — *' tell 
 it not in Ascalon, publish it not in Gath" — to 
 \iolent pushing, and, at length, to blows. The 
 audience were, as well they might be, shocked ; 
 the gens cVarmes interfered, and order was 
 soon restored. The extreme propriety of con- 
 duct that invariably prevails in a Parisian 
 audience, and more especially in the female 
 portion of it, renders the circumstance I have 
 narrated remarkable. 
 
 Met Lady C, Lady H., and the usual circle 
 
 of habitues last night at Madame C 's. 
 
 The first-mentioned lady surprises me every 
 time I meet her, bv the exaooreration of her 
 sentiments and the romantic notions she en- 
 tertains. Love, eternal love, is her favourite 
 topic of conversation ; a topic unsuited to dis- 
 cussion at her age and in her position. 
 
 To hear a woman, no lonofer vouno- talkino- 
 passionately of love, has something so absurd 
 
316 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 in it, that I am pained for Lady C, wlio is 
 really a kind-hearted and amiable woman. 
 Her definitions of the passion, and descrip- 
 tions of its effects, remind me of the themes 
 furnished by Scudery, and are as tiresome as 
 the tales of a traveller recounted some fifty 
 years after he has made his voyage. Lady H., 
 who is older than Lady C, opens wide her 
 round eyes, laughs, and exclaims, " Oh, dear ! 
 — how very strange ! — well, that is so funny !" 
 until Lady C. draws up with all the dignity of 
 a heroine of romance, and asserts that **few, 
 very few, are capable of either feeling or com- 
 prehending the passion." A fortunate state 
 for those who are no longer able to inspire it ! 
 To grow old gracefully, proves no ordinary 
 powers of mind, more especially in one who 
 has been (oh, what an odious phrase that 
 same has been is!) a beauty. Well has it 
 been observed bv a French writer, that women 
 no longer young and handsome should forget 
 that they ever were so. 
 
PARIS. 317 
 
 I have been reading Wordsworth's poems 
 ao-am, and I verilv believe for the fiftieth time. 
 They contain a mine of lofty, beautiful, and 
 natural thoughts. I never peruse them with- 
 out feeling proud that England has such a 
 poet, and without finding a love for the pure 
 and the noble increased in my mind. Talk 
 of the ideal in poetry ! what is it in comparison 
 with the positive and the natural, of which 
 he gives such exquisite delineations, lifting 
 his readers from Nature up to Nature's God ? 
 How eloquently does he portray the feelings 
 awakened by fine scenery, and the thoughts 
 to which it gives birth ! 
 
 Wordsworth is, par excellence, the Poet of 
 Religion, for his productions fill the mind 
 with pure and holy aspirations. Fortunate 
 is the poet who has quaffed inspiration in 
 the purest of all its sources, Nature ; and 
 fortunate is the land that claims him for 
 her own. 
 
 The influence exercised bv courts over the 
 habits of subjects, though carried to a less 
 
318 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 extent in our days than in past times, is still 
 obvious at Paris in the display of religion 
 assumed by the upper class. Coronetted car- 
 riages are to be seen every day at the doors 
 of certain churches, which it is not very un- 
 charitable to suppose might be less frequently 
 beheld there if the King, Madame la Dau- 
 phine, and the Dauphin, v^^ere less religious ; 
 and hands that have wielded a sword in 
 many a well-fought battle-field, and hold the 
 baton de mareclial as a reward, may now be 
 seen bearing a lighted cierge in some pious 
 procession, — the military air of the intrepid 
 warrior lost in the humility of the devotee. 
 
 This general assumption of religion on the 
 part of the courtiers reminds me forcibly of 
 a passage in a poetical epistle, written, too, 
 by a sovereign, who, unlike many monarchs, 
 seemed to have had a due appreciation of the 
 proneness of subjects to adopt the opinions of 
 their rulers. 
 
 " L'exemple d'un monarque ordonne et se fait suivre : 
 Quand Auguste buvoit, la Pologne etoit ivre ; 
 
PARIS. 319 
 
 Quand Louis le Grand bruloit d'un tendre amour, 
 Paris devint Cy there, et tout suivoit la cour ; 
 Lorsqu'il devint devot, et ardent a la priere, 
 Ses laches courtisans marmotterent leur breviaire." 
 
 Should the Due de Bordeaux arrive at 
 the throne while yet in the hev-dav of youth, 
 and with the gaiety that generally accom- 
 panies that period of life, it will be amusing 
 to witness the metamorphosis that will be 
 effected in these same courtiers. There are 
 doubtless many, and I am acquainted with 
 some persons here, whose religion is as sin- 
 cere and as fervent as is that of the royal 
 personages of the court they frequent ; but I 
 confess that I doubt whether the general mass 
 of the upper class would afficher their piety as 
 much as thev now do if their reoular attendance 
 at divine worship was less likely to be known 
 at the Tuilleries. The influence of a pious sove- 
 reigTi over the religious feelings of his people 
 must be highly beneficial when they feel, instead 
 of affecting to do so, the sanctity they profess. 
 
320 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 When those in the possession of supreme 
 power, and all the advantages it is supposed 
 to confer, turn from the enjoyment of them 
 to seek support from Heaven to meet the 
 doom allotted to kings as well as subjects, 
 the example is most salutary ; for the piety 
 of the rich and great is even more edifying 
 than that of the poor and lowly, who are 
 supposed to seek consolation which the pro- 
 sperous are imagined not to require. 
 
 The Duchesse de Berri is very popular at 
 Paris, and deservedly so. Her natural gaiety 
 harmonises with that of this lively people ; and 
 her love of the fine arts, and the liberal patron- 
 age she extends to them, gratify the Parisians. 
 
 I heard an anecdote of her to-day from 
 an authority which leaves no doubt of its 
 truth. Having commanded a brilliant fete, 
 a heavy fall of snow drew from one of her 
 courtiers a remark that the extreme cold 
 would impede the pleasure of the guests, vfho 
 
PARIS. 321 
 
 would suffer from it in coining and departing, 
 *' True," replied the Duchesse ; ** but if they 
 in comfortable carriages, and enveloped in 
 furs and cashmeres, can suffer from the 
 severity of the weather, what must the poor 
 endure?" And she instantly ordered a large 
 sum of money to be forthwith distributed, 
 to supply fuel to the indigent, saying — 
 " While I dance, I shall have the pleasure of 
 thinking the poor are not without the means 
 of warmth." 
 
 Received a long and delightful letter from 
 Walter Savage Landor. His is one of the 
 most original minds I have ever encountered, 
 and is joined to one of the finest natures. 
 Living in the delightful solitude he has chosen 
 near Florence, his time is passed in reading, 
 reflecting, and writing ; a life so blameless 
 and so happy, that the philosophers of old, 
 wdth whose thoughts his mind is so richly 
 imbued, might, if envy could enter into such 
 hearts, entertain it towards him. 
 
 p 2 
 
322 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Landor is a happy example of the effect 
 of retirement on a great mind. Free from 
 the interruptions which, if they harass not, 
 at least impede the continuous flow of thought 
 in those who live much in society, his mind 
 has developed itself holdly, and acquired a 
 vigour at which, perhaps, it might never have 
 arrived, had he been compelled to live in 
 a crowded city, chafed by the contact with 
 minds of an inferior calibre. 
 
 The Imaginary Conversations could never 
 have been written amid the vexatious inter- 
 ruptions incidental to one mingling much in 
 the scenes of busy life ; for the voices of the 
 sages of old with w^hom, beneath his own 
 vines, Landor loves to commune, would have 
 been inaudible in the turmoil of a populous 
 town, and their secrets would not have been 
 revealed to him. The friction of society may 
 animate the man of talent into its exercise, 
 but I am persuaded that solitude is essential 
 to the perfect developement of genius. 
 
PARIS. 
 
 323 
 
 A letter from Sir William Gell, and, like 
 all his letters, very amusing. Yet how dif- 
 ferent from Landor's ! Both written beneath 
 the sunny sky of Italy, both scholars, and 
 nearly of the same age, nevertheless, how 
 widely different are their letters! 
 
 Gell's, filled with lively and comic details 
 of persons, seldom fail to make me laugh ; 
 Landor's, wholly devoted to literary subjects, 
 set me thinking. Gell would die of ennui 
 in the solitude Landor has selected ; Landor 
 would be chafed into irritation in the constant 
 routine of visiting and dining-out in which 
 Gell finds amusement. But here am I at- 
 tempting to draw a parallel where none can 
 be established, for Landor is a man of genius, 
 Gell a man of talent. 
 
 Was at the Opera last night, and saw the 
 Due d'Orleans 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 
 
324 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of the Due d'Orleans. Blessed with health, 
 a princely revenue, an admirahle wife, fine 
 children, and many friends, he can have 
 nothing to desire hut a continuance of these 
 hlessings. 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 pos- 
 sible 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 domes- 
 tic relations, and furnishes to France a bright 
 
PARIS. 3^5 
 
 example of irreproachable conduct and well- 
 merited felicity in them all. In the posses- 
 sion 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 Due de 
 Bordeaux is but a child. Should any thing 
 occur to this child, then would the Due 
 d' Orleans 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 Due d' Orleans 
 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 
 
326 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Due d' Orleans, he has sent his sons to publie 
 sehools — 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 Due de Chartres is an 
 exceedingly handsome young man, and his 
 brothers are fine youths. The Princesses are 
 brought up immediately imder the eye of 
 their mother, who is allowed by every one 
 to be a faultless model for her sex. 
 
 The Due d' Orleans 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. 
 
 I have been reading Shelley's works, in 
 which I have found many beautiful thoughts. 
 This man of genius — for decidedly such he 
 was— has not yet been rendered justice to; 
 the errors that shroud his poetry, as vapours 
 rising from too rich a soil spread a mist 
 that obstructs our view of the flowers that 
 also spring from the same bed, have hindered 
 
PARIS. 327 
 
 US from appreciating the many beauties that 
 abound in Shelley's writings. Alarmed by the 
 poison that lurks in some of his wild specu- 
 lations, w^e have slighted the antidote to be 
 found in many others of them, and heaped 
 obloquy on the fame of a poet whose genius 
 and kindness of heart should have insured 
 our pity for the errors of his creed. 
 
 He who w^as all charity has found none 
 in the judgment pronounced on him by his 
 contemporaries ; but posterity will be more 
 just. The wild theories and fanciful opinions 
 of Shelley, on subjects too sacred to be ap- 
 proached lightly, carry with them their own 
 condemnation; and so preclude the evil which 
 pernicious doctrines, more logically reasoned, 
 might produce on wxak minds. His theories 
 are vague, dreamy, always erroneous, and 
 often absurd : but the imagination of the 
 poet, and the tenderness of heart of the man, 
 plead for pardon for the false doctrines of 
 the would-be philosopher; and those who 
 
328 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 most admire his poetry will be the least dis- 
 posed to tolerate his anti-religious principles. 
 As a proof that his life was far from being 
 in accordance with his false creed, he enjoyed, 
 up to his death, the friendship of some of 
 the most excellent men, who deplored his 
 errors but who loved and valued him. 
 
 William Spencer, the poet, dined here yester- 
 day. Alas ! he has " fallen into the sere and 
 yellow leaf," for though sometimes uttering 
 brilliant thoughts, they are '* like angel visits, 
 few and far between ; " and total silence, or half- 
 incoherent rhapsodies, mark the intervals. 
 
 This melancholy change is accounted for 
 by the effects of an indulgence in wine, had 
 recourse to in consequence of depression of 
 spirits. Nor is this pernicious indulgence 
 confined to the evening, for at a dejemie a 
 la fourchette at two o'clock, enough wine is 
 drunk to dull his faculties for the rest of 
 the day. ^ What an unpoetical close to a life 
 once so brilliant! 
 
PARIS. 329 
 
 Alas, alas, for poor human nature! when, 
 even though iUumined by the ethereal spark, 
 it can thus suUv its hio^her destiny. I thoucrht 
 of the many fanciful and graceful poems so 
 often perused with pleasure, written by ]\Ir. 
 Spencer amid the brilliant fetes in which 
 he formerly passed his nights, and where he 
 often found his inspirations. His was ever a 
 courtlv Muse, but T\-ithout the hoop and train 
 — a ball-room helle^ with alternate smiles and 
 sentimentalitv, and wittv withal. No out-burst- 
 ing of passion, or touch of deep pathos, inter- 
 rupted the equanimity of feeling of those 
 who perused Spencer's verses; yet was their 
 absence unmissed, for the fancy, wit, and senti- 
 ment that marked them all, and the gi'aceful 
 ease of the versification, rendered them pre- 
 cisely what they were intended for, — les vers 
 de societe, the fitting volume elegantly bound 
 to be placed in the boudoir. 
 
 And there sat the pet poet of gilded salons, 
 whose sparkling sallies could once delight 
 
330 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the fastidious circles in which he moved. 
 His once hright eyes, glazed and lustreless, 
 his cheeks sunken and pale, seeming only 
 conscious of the presence of those around 
 him when offered champagne, the excite- 
 ment of which ' for a few brief moments 
 produced some flashing hon mot a propos de 
 rien passing at the time, after which his 
 spirits subsided even more rapidly than did 
 the bubbles of the wine that had given them 
 their short excitement. 
 
 It made me sad to contemplate this wreck ; 
 but most of those around him appeared un- 
 conscious of there being any thing remark- 
 able in his demeanour. They had not known 
 him in his better days. 
 
 I am often amused, and sometimes half- 
 vexed, by witnessing the prejudices that still 
 exist in France with regard to the EngHsh. 
 These prejudices prevail in all ranks, and 
 are, I am disposed to think, incurable. 
 
 They extend to trivial, as well as to more 
 
PARIS. 331 
 
 grave matters, and influence the opinions 
 pronounced on all subjects. An example of 
 this prejudice occurred a few weeks ago, w^hen 
 one of our most admired belles from London 
 having arrived at Paris, her personal appear- 
 ance was much canvassed. One person found 
 her too tall, another discovered that she had 
 too much embonpoint, and a third said her 
 feet were much too large. A Frenchman, 
 when appealed to for his opinion, declared 
 '' Elle est tres bien pour une Anglaise'' I 
 ought to add, that there was no English 
 person present when he made this ungallant 
 speech, w^hich was repeated to me by a French 
 ladv, who laughed heartily at his notion. 
 
 If an Englishwoman enters a glover's or 
 shoemaker's shop, these worthies will only 
 shew her the largest gloves or shoes they 
 have in their magasins, so persuaded are 
 they that she cannot have a small hand or 
 foot ; and when they find their wares too 
 large, and are compelled to search for the 
 
33^ THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 smallest size, they seem discomposed as well 
 as surprised, and inform the lady that they 
 had no notion " une dame Anglaise could 
 want small gloves or shoes." 
 
 That an Englishwoman can be witty, or 
 brilliant in conversation, the French either 
 doubt or profess to doubt ; but if convinced 
 against their will they exclaim, " C^est drole, 
 mats madame a Vesprit eminemment Fran- 
 gais,^^ Now this no Englishwoman has, or, 
 in my opinion, can have ; for it is peculiar, 
 half-natural and half-acquired. 
 
 Conversation, in France, is an art success- 
 fully studied ; to excel in which, not only much 
 natural talent is required, but great fluency 
 and a happy choice of words are indispensable. 
 No one in Parisian society speaks ill, and 
 many possess a readiness of wit, and a facility 
 of turning it to account, that I have never 
 seen exemplified in women of other countries. 
 
 A Frenchwoman talks well on every sub- 
 ject, from those of the most grave political 
 
PARIS. 333 
 
 importance, to the dernidre mode. Her talent 
 in this art is daily exercised, and consequently 
 becomes perfected ; while an Englishwoman, 
 with more various and solid attainments, 
 rarelv, if ever, arrives at the ease and self- 
 confidence which would enable her to bring 
 the treasures T\dth which her mind is stored 
 into play. So generally is the art of con- 
 versation cultivated in France, that even those 
 T\-ith abilities that rise not beyond mediocrity 
 can take their parts in it, not only without ex- 
 posing the poverty of their intellects, but with 
 even a show of talent that often imposes on 
 strangers. 
 
 An En oflish woman, more concentrated in 
 her feelings as well as in her pursuits, sel- 
 dom devotes the time given by Frenchwomen 
 to the superficial acquisition of a versatility of 
 knowledge, which, though it enables them to 
 converse fluently on various subjects, she 
 would dread entering on, unless well versed 
 in. My fair compatriots have consequently 
 
334} THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 fewer topics, even if they had equal talent, 
 to converse on ; so that the esprit styled, par 
 excellence, Vesprit emineinment Francais, is 
 precisely that to which we can urge the fewest 
 pretensions. 
 
 This does not, however, dispose me to de- 
 preciate a talent, or art, for art it may be 
 called, that renders society in France not only 
 so brilliant but so agreeable, and which is 
 attended with the salutary effect of banishing 
 the ill-natured observations and personal re- 
 marks which too often supply the place of 
 more harmless topics with us. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Much as I deplore some of the consequences 
 of the Revolution in France, and the atrocities 
 by which it was stained, it is impossible not to 
 admit the great and salutary change effected 
 in the habits and feelings of the people since 
 that event. Who can live on terms of in- 
 timacv with the French, without beino^ struck 
 bv the difference between those of our time, 
 and those of whom we read previously to that 
 epoch? The system of education is totally 
 different. The habits of domestic life are 
 wholly changed. The relations between hus- 
 band and wife, and parents and childi'cn, have 
 
336 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 assumed another character, by which the bonds 
 of affection and mutual dependances are drawn 
 more closely together ; and home, sweet home, 
 the focus of domestic love, said to have been 
 once an unknown blessing, at least among 
 the haute noblesse, is now endeared by the 
 discharge of reciprocal duties and warm sym- 
 pathies. 
 
 It is impossible to doubt but that the Revo- 
 lution of 1789, and the terrible scenes in the 
 reign of terror w^hich followed it, operated in 
 producing the change to which I have re- 
 ferred. It found the greater portion of the 
 noblesse luxuriating in pleasure, and thinking 
 only of selfish, if not of criminal indulgence, in 
 pursuits equally marked by puerility and vice. 
 
 The corruption of the regency planted the 
 seeds of vice in French morals, and they 
 yielded a plentiful harvest. How well has 
 St. Evremond described that epoch in his 
 playful, but sarcastic verses! — 
 
PARIS. 337 
 
 " Une politique indulgente, 
 
 De notre nature innocente, 
 
 Favorisait tous les desirs ; 
 
 Tout gout paraissait legitime, 
 La douce erreur ne s'appellait point crime, 
 Les vices delicats se noramaient des plaisirs." 
 
 But it was reserved for the reign of Louis 
 the Fifteenth to develope still more exten- 
 sively the corruption planted by his prede- 
 cessor. The influence exercised on society 
 by the baleful example of his court had not 
 yet ceased, and time had not been allowed for 
 the reign of the mild monarch who succeeded 
 that gross voluptuary to work the reform in 
 manners, if not in morals, which his own per- 
 sonal habits were so well calculated to pro- 
 duce. It required the terrible lesson given 
 by the Revolution to awaken the natural 
 feelings of affection that had so long slum- 
 bered supinely in the enervated hearts of 
 the higher classes in France, corrupted 
 by long habits of indulgence in selfish 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
338 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 gratifications. The lesson at once awoke even 
 the most callous ; while those, and there were 
 many such, who required it not, furnished the 
 nohlest examples of high courage and self- 
 devotion to the objects dear to them. 
 
 In exile and in poverty, when all extraneous 
 sources of consolation were denied them, those 
 who if still plunged in pleasure and splendour 
 miofht have remained insensible to the bless- 
 ings of family ties, now turned to them with 
 the yearning fondness with which a last com- 
 fort is clasped, and became sensible how little 
 thev had hitherto estimated them. 
 
 Once awakened from their too long and 
 torpid slumber, the hearts purified by afilic- 
 tion learned to appreciate the blessings still 
 left them, and from the fearful epoch of the 
 Revolution a gradual change may be traced in 
 the habits and feelings of the French people. 
 Terrible has been the expiation of their former 
 errors, but admirable has been the result ; for 
 nowhere can be now found more devoted 
 
PARIS. 339 
 
 parents, more dutiful children, or more at- 
 tached relatives, than among the French 
 noblesse. 
 
 If the lesson afforded by the Revolution to 
 the upper class has been attended with a salu- 
 tarv effect, it has been scarcely less advan- 
 taofeous to the middle and lower; for it has 
 taught them the dangers to be apprehended 
 fi'om the state of anarchy that ever follows on 
 the heels of popular convulsions, exposing 
 even those who participated in them to in- 
 finitely worse evils than those from which thev 
 hoped to escape by a subversion of the legiti- 
 mate government. 
 
 These reflections have been suggested by a 
 description given to me, by one who mixed 
 much in Parisian society previously to the 
 Revolution, of the habits, modes, and usages of 
 the haute noblesse of that period, and who is 
 deeply sensible of the present regeneration. 
 This person, than whom a more impartial 
 recorder of the events of that epoch cannot be 
 
340 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 found, assured me that the accounts given in 
 the memoirs and publications of the state of 
 society at that epoch were by no means ex- 
 ao-oferated, and that the domestic habits and 
 affections at present so universally cultivated 
 in France were, if not unknown, at least 
 neo^lected. 
 
 Married people looked not to each other 
 for happiness, and sought the aggrandizement, 
 and not the felicity, of their children. The 
 acquisition of wealth and splendour and the 
 enjoyment of pleasure occupied their thoughts, 
 and those parents who secured these advan- 
 tages for their offspring, however they might 
 have neglected to instil sentiments of morality 
 and religion into their minds, believed that 
 they had fully discharged their duty towards 
 them. It was the want of natural affection 
 between parents and children that led to the 
 cynical observation uttered by a French phi- 
 losopher of that day, who explained the par- 
 tiality of grandfathers and grandmothers to- 
 
PARIS. 341 
 
 wards their grandchildren, by saying these 
 last were the enemies of their enemies, — a 
 reflection founded on the grossest selfishness. 
 
 The habit of judging persons and things 
 superficially, is one of the defects that most fre- 
 quently strike me in the Parisians. This defect 
 arises not from a want of quickness of apprehen- 
 sion, but has its source in the vivacity peculiar 
 to them, which precludes their bestowing suffi- 
 cient time to form an accurate opinion on what 
 they pronounce. Prone to judge from the 
 exterior, rather than to study the interior 
 qualifications of those with whom they come 
 in contact, the person who is perfectly well- 
 dressed and well-mannered will be better 
 received than he who, however hio^hlv recom- 
 mended for mental superiority or fine quali- 
 ties, happens to be ill- dressed, or troubled 
 with mauvaise honte, 
 
 A woman, if ever so handsome, who is not 
 dressed a la mode, will be pronounced plain in 
 a Parisian salon ; while a really plain woman 
 
342 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 wearing a robe made by Victorine and a 
 cap by Herbault, will be considered trh hi en, 
 ou au moins Men gentille. The person who 
 can converse fluently on all the ordinary topics, 
 though never uttering a single sentiment or 
 opinion worth remembering, will be more 
 highly thought of than the one who, with a 
 mind abounding with knowledge, only speaks 
 to elicit or convey information. Talent, to be 
 appreciated in France, must be — like the 
 wares in its shops— fully displayed ; the French 
 give no credit for what is kept in reserve. 
 
 I have been reading Devereux, and like it 
 infinitely, — even more than Pelham, which I 
 estimated very highly. There is more thought 
 and reflection in it, and the sentiments 
 bear the stamp of a profound and elevated 
 mind. The novels of this writer produce a 
 totally different eff^ect on me to that exercised 
 by the works of other authors ; they amuse 
 less than they make me think. Other novels 
 banish thought, and interest me only in the 
 
PARIS. 34>3 
 
 fate of the actors ; but these awaken a train 
 of reflection that often withdraws me fi^om the 
 story, leaving me deeply impressed with the 
 truth, beauty, and originality of the thoughts 
 with which every page is pregnant. 
 
 All in Paris are talking of the esclandre 
 of the late trial in London ; and the comments 
 made on it by the French prove how different 
 are the \iews of morality taken by them 
 and us. 
 
 Conversing with some ladies on this sub- 
 ject last night, they asserted that the in- 
 frequency of elopements in France proved the 
 superiority of morals of the French, and that 
 few examples ever occurred of a woman being 
 so lost to virtue as to desert her children 
 and abandon her home. "But if she should 
 have rendered herself unworthy of any longer 
 being the companion of her children, the 
 partner of her home," asked one of the circle, 
 " would it be more moral to remain under the 
 roof she had dishonoured, and with the husband 
 
344 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 she had betrayed, than to fly, and so incur the 
 penalty she had drawn on her head ? " They 
 were of opinion that the elopement was the 
 most criminal part of the afi^ir, and that 
 
 Lady was less culpable than many other 
 
 ladies, because she had not fled; and, conse- 
 quently, that elopements proved a greater 
 demoralisation than the sinful liaisons carried 
 on without them. 
 
 Lady C endeavoured to prove that the 
 
 flight frequently originated in a latent sense 
 of honour and shame, which rendered the 
 presence of the deceived husband and innocent 
 children insufferable to her whose indulgence 
 of a guilty passion had caused her to forfeit 
 her right to the conjugal home; but they 
 could not comprehend this, and persisted in 
 thinking the woman who fled with her lover 
 more guilty than her who remained under the 
 roof of the husband she deceived. 
 
 One thing is quite clear, which is, that the 
 woman who feels she dare not meet her 
 
PARIS. 345 
 
 wronged husband and children, if she dis- 
 honours them, will be more deterred from sin 
 bv the consciousness of the necessity of flio^ht, 
 which it imposes, than will be the one who 
 sees no such necessity, and who dreads not the 
 penalty she may be tempted to incur. 
 
 Lady C maintained that elopements 
 
 are not a fair criterion for judging of the 
 morality of a country; for that she who sins 
 and flies is less hardened in guilt than she who 
 remains and deceiyes : and the example is also 
 less pernicious, as the one who has forfeited 
 her place in society seryes as a beacon to warn 
 others ; while she whose eiTors are known, 
 yet still retains hers, is a dangerous instance 
 of the indulgence afibrded to hardened dupli- 
 city. It is not the horror of guilt, but the 
 dread of its exposure, that operates on the 
 generality of minds ; and this is not always 
 sufficient to deter from sin. 
 
 Les Dames de B dined with us yester- 
 day. They are yery cleyer and amusing, and, 
 
 q2 
 
346 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 what is better, are excellent women. Their 
 attachment to each other, and devotion to 
 their nephew, are edifying ; and he appears 
 worthy of it. Left an orphan when yet an 
 infant, these sisters adopted their nephew, 
 and for his sake have refused^ many advan- 
 tageous offers of marriage, devoting themselves 
 to forwarding his interests and insuring him 
 their inheritance. They have shared his 
 studies, taken part in his success, and entered 
 into his pains and pleasures, made his friends 
 theirs, and theirs his ; no wonder, then, that 
 he loves them so fondly, and is never happier 
 than with them, taking a lively interest in 
 all their pursuits. 
 
 These good and warm-hearted women are 
 accused of being enthusiasts, and romantic. 
 People say that at their age it is odd, if not 
 absurd, to indulge in such exaggerated notions 
 of attachment; nay more, to give such dis- 
 interested proofs of it. They may well smile 
 at such remarks, while conscious that their 
 
PARIS. 347 
 
 devotion to their nephew has not only secured 
 his happiness, but constitutes their own; and 
 that the warmth of affection for which they 
 are censured, cheers the winter of their lives 
 and diffuses a comfort over their existence 
 unknovNTi to the selfish mortals who live only 
 for self. 
 
 They talked to me last night .of the happi- 
 ness they anticipated in seeing their nephew 
 married. " He is so good, so excellent, that 
 the person he selects cannot fail to love him 
 fondlv," said La Chanoinesse ; ** and we will 
 love her so dearly for ensuring his happiness," 
 added the other sister. 
 
 "WTio could know these two estimable women, 
 without acknowledo^ino^ how harsh and un- 
 just are often the sweeping censures pro- 
 nounced on those who are termed old maids ? — 
 a class in whose breasts the affections instinct 
 in woman, not being exercised by conjugal or 
 maternal ties, expand into some other channel ; 
 and, if denied some dear object on which to 
 
348 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 place them, expends them on the domestic 
 animals with which, in default of more rational 
 favourites, they surround themselves. 
 
 Les Dames de B , happier than many 
 
 of the spinsters of their age, have an estimahle 
 object to bestow their affections on; but those 
 who are less fortunate should rather excite 
 our pity than ridicule, for many and severe 
 must have been the trials of that heart which 
 turns at last, dans le hesoin d^aime7\ to the 
 bird, dog, or cat, that renders solitude less 
 lonely. 
 
 The difference between servitude in Enofland 
 and in France often strikes me, and more 
 especially when I hear the frequent complaints 
 made by English people of the insolence and 
 familiarity of French servants. Unaccustomed 
 to hear a servant reply to any censure passed 
 on him, the English are apt to consider his 
 doing so as a want of respect or subordina- 
 tion, though a French servant does not even 
 dream that he is guilty of either when, accord- 
 
PARIS. 349 
 
 ing to the general habit of his class and 
 country, he attempts an exculpation not always 
 satisfactory to his employer, however it may 
 be to himself. 
 
 A French master listens to the explana- 
 tion patiently, or at least without any demon- 
 stration of anger, unless he finds it is not 
 based on truth, when he reprehends the 
 servant in a manner that satisfies the latter 
 that all future attempts to avoid blame by 
 misrepresentation will be unavailing. French 
 servants imagine that they have the right to 
 explain, and their employers do not deny it ; 
 consequently, when they change a French for 
 an English master, they continue the same 
 tone and manner to which they have been 
 used, and are not a little surprised to find 
 themselves considered guilty of impertinence. 
 
 A French master and mistress issue their 
 orders to their domestics with much more 
 familiarity than the English do ; take a lively 
 interest in their welfare and happiness ; advise 
 
350 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 them about their private concerns ; inquire 
 into the cause of any depression of spirits, 
 or symptom of ill health they may observe, 
 and make themselves acquainted with the cir- 
 cumstances of those in their establishment. 
 
 This system lessens the distance maintained 
 between masters and servants, but does not 
 really diminish the respect entertained by the 
 latter towards their employers, who generally 
 find around them humble friends, instead of, 
 as with us, cold and calculating dependents, 
 who repay our hauteui^ by a total indifference 
 to our interests, and, while evincing all the 
 external appearance of profound respect, en- 
 tertain little of the true feeling of it to their 
 masters. 
 
 Treating our servants as if they were auto- 
 matons created solely for our use, and who, 
 being paid a certain remuneration for their 
 services, have no claim on us for kindness 
 or sympathy, is a system very injurious to 
 their morals and our ow^n interests, and re- 
 
PARIS. 351 
 
 quires an amelioration. But while I deprecate 
 the tone of familiarity that so frequently shocks 
 the untravelled English in the treatment of 
 French employers to their servants, I should 
 like to see more kindness of manner shev\Ti 
 by the English to theirs. Nowhere are 
 servants so well paid, clothed, fed, and lodged, 
 as with us, and nowhere are they said to 
 feel so little attachment to their masters ; 
 which can only be accounted for by the erro- 
 neous system to which I have referred. 
 
 came to see me to-day. He talked 
 
 politics, and I am afraid went away shocked 
 at perceiving how little interest I took in 
 them. I like not political subjects in Eng- 
 land, and avoid them whenever I can ; but 
 here I feel very much about them, as the 
 Irishman is said to have felt when told that 
 the house he was living in was on fire, and 
 he answered "Sure, what's that to me? — I 
 am only a lodger ! " 
 
 told me that France is in a very 
 
852 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 dangerous state ; the people discontented, 
 &c. Sec. So I have heard every time I have 
 visited Paris for the last ten years ; and as 
 to the people being discontented, when were 
 they otherwise I should like to know ? Never, 
 at least since I have been acquainted with 
 them ; and it will require a sovereign such as 
 France has not yet known to satisfy a people so 
 versatile and excitable. Charles the Tenth is 
 not popular. His religious turn, far from 
 conciliating the respect or confidence of his 
 subjects, tends only to awaken their suspicions 
 of his being influenced by the Jesuits — a sus- 
 picion fraught with evil, if not danger, to 
 him. 
 
 Strange to say, all admit that France has 
 not been so prosperous for years as at present. 
 Its people are rapidly acquiring a love of 
 commerce, and the wealth that springs from 
 it, which induces me to imagine that they 
 would not be disposed to risk the advantages 
 they possess by any measure likely to subvert 
 
PARIS. S53 
 
 the present state of things. Nevertheless, 
 
 more than one alarmist like shake their 
 
 heads and look solemn, foretelling that affairs 
 cannot long go on as they are. 
 
 Of one thing I am convinced, and that 
 is, that no sovereign, whatever may be his 
 merits, can long remain popular in France ; 
 and that no prosperity, however brilliant, 
 can prevent the people from those emeutes 
 into which their excitable temperaments, 
 rather than any real cause for discontent, 
 hurry them. These emeutes, too, are less 
 dangerous than we are led to think. They 
 are safety-valves by which the exuberant 
 spirits of the French people escape ; and 
 their national vanity, being satisfied with the 
 display of their force, soon subside into tran- 
 quillity, if not aroused into protracted violence 
 by unwise demonstrations of coercion. 
 
 The two eldest sons of the Due and Duchesse 
 de Guiche have entered the College of St. 
 Barbe. This is a great trial to their mother. 
 
354 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 from whom they had never previously been 
 separated a single day. Well might she be 
 proud of them, on hearing the just eulogiums 
 pronounced on the progress in their studies 
 while under the paternal roof ; for never did 
 parents devote themselves more to the im- 
 provement of their children than the Due 
 and Duchesse de Guiche have done, and 
 never did children offer a fairer prospect of 
 rewarding their parents than do theirs. 
 
 It would have furnished a fine subject for 
 a painter to see this beautiful woman, still 
 in the zenith of her youth and charms, walk- 
 ing between these two noble boys, whose 
 personal beauty is as remarkable as that of 
 their parents, as she accompanied them to 
 the college. The group reminded me of Cor- 
 nelia and her sons, for there was the same 
 classic tournure of heads and profiles, and the 
 same elevated character of spirituelle beauty, 
 that painters and sculptors always bestow on 
 the young Roman matron and the Gracchi. 
 
PARIS. 355 
 
 The Due seemed impressed with a sen- 
 timent almost amounting to solemnity as he 
 conducted his sons to St. Barbe. He thought, 
 probably, of the difference between their boy- 
 hood and his own, passed in a foreign land 
 and in exile ; while they, brought up in the 
 bosom of a happy home, have now left it for 
 the first time. Well has he taught them 
 to love the land of their birth, for even now 
 
 « 
 
 their youthful hearts are filled with patriotic 
 and chiyalrous feelings ! 
 
 It would be fortunate, indeed, for the King 
 of France if he had many such men as the 
 Due de Guiche around him — men with en- 
 lightened minds, who haye profited by the 
 lessons of adyersity, and kept pace with the 
 rapidly adyancing knowledge of the times to 
 which they belono^. 
 
 Painful, indeed, would be the position of 
 this excellent man should any circumstances 
 occur that would place the royal family in 
 jeopardy, for he is too sensible not to be 
 
356 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 aware of the errors that might lead to such 
 a crisis, and too loyal not to share the perils 
 he could not ward off; though he will never 
 be among those who would incur them, for 
 no one is more impressed with the necessity 
 of justice and impartiality than he is. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 
 
 LONDON : 
 PRINTED BY MOTES AND BARCLAY, CASTLE STREET, LEICESTER SQUARE. 
 
THE 
 
 IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 A SEQUEL TO 
 
 " THE IDLER IN ITALY." 
 
 BY 
 
 THE COUNTESS OF BLESSINGTON 
 
 IN 'I'WO VOLUMKS, 
 VOL. II. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY COLBURN, PUBLISHER, 
 
 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET. 
 
 1842. 
 
THE 
 
 IDLER IN FRANCE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 The approach of spring is already visible 
 here, and right glad am I to welcome its 
 genial influence ; for a Paris winter possesses 
 in my opinion no superiority over a London 
 one, — nay, though it would be deemed by the 
 French little less than a heresy to say so, is 
 even more damp and disagreeable. 
 
 The Seine has her fogs, as dense, raw, and 
 chilling, as those of old Father Thames him- 
 self; and the river approximating closer to " the 
 
 VOL. II. B 
 
2 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 gay resorts" of the heau monde, they are 
 more felt. Then the want of draining, and 
 the vapours that stagnate over the turbid 
 waters of the ruisseaux that intersect the 
 streets at Paris, add to the humidity of the 
 atmosphere ; while the sewers in London 
 convey away unseen and unfelt, if not always 
 unsmelt, the rain which purifies, while it 
 deluges, our streets. Heaven defend me, how- 
 ever, from uttering this disadvantageous com- 
 parison to Parisian ears, for the French are 
 too fond of Paris not to be proud even of its 
 ruisseaux, and incredulous of its fogs, and any 
 censure on either would be ill received. 
 
 The gay butterflies when they first expand 
 their vari - coloured wings and float in air, 
 seem not more joyous than the Parisians have 
 been during the last two days of sunshine. 
 The Jardins de Tuilleries are crowded with 
 well-dressed groups ; the budding leaves have 
 burst forth with that delicate green peculiar 
 to early spring; and the chirping of innu- 
 
PARIS. 3 
 
 merable birds, as they flit from tree to tree, 
 announces the approach of the vernal season. 
 
 Paris is at no time so attractive, in mv 
 opinion, as in spring ; and the verdure of 
 the foliao^e durino- its infancv is so tender, 
 yet bright, that it looks far more beautiful 
 than with us in our London squares or parks, 
 where no sooner do the leaves open into life, 
 than they become stained by the impuritv of 
 the atmosphere, which soon deposes its 
 dingy particles on them, " making the green 
 one " — black. 
 
 The Boulevards were well stocked with 
 flowers to-day, the houquetieres having resumed 
 their stalls ; and many a pedestrian might be 
 seen bargaining for these fair and frail 
 harbingers of rosy spring. 
 
 How exhilarating are the effects of this 
 season on the spirits depressed by the long 
 and gloomy winter, and the frame rendered 
 languid by the same cause ! The heart 
 begins to beat with more enero^etic move- 
 
4 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ment, the blood flows more briskly through 
 the vems, and the spirit of hope is revivified 
 in the human heart. This sympathy between 
 awakening nature, on the earth, and on man, 
 renders us more, than at any other period, 
 fond of the country ; for this is the season 
 of promise; and we know that each coming 
 day, for a certain time, will bestow some new 
 beauty on all that is now budding forth, 
 until glowing, laughing summer has replaced 
 the fitful smiles and tears of spring. 
 
 And there are persons who tell me they 
 experience nought of this elasticity of spirits 
 at the approach of spring! How are such 
 mortals to be pitied I Yet, perhaps, they 
 are less so than we imagine, for the same 
 insensibility that prevents their being exhi- 
 larated, may preclude them from the depres- 
 sion so peculiar to all who have lively feelings. 
 
 " I see nothing so very delightful in spring," 
 
 said to me, yesterday. ^' Au contraire, 
 
 I think it rather disagreeable, for the sun- 
 
PARIS. 5 
 
 shine cheats one into the belief of warmth, 
 and we go forth less warmly clad in conse- 
 quence, so return home chilled by the sharp 
 cold air which always prevails at this season, 
 and find, as never fails to be the case, that 
 our stupid servants have let out the fires, 
 because, trulv, the sun was shininof in the 
 
 cold blue sky." reminds me of the 
 
 man mentioned in Sterae's works, who, when 
 his friend looking on a beautiful prospect, 
 compared a green field with a flock of snowv- 
 fleeced sheep on it, to a vast emerald studded 
 with pearls, answered that lie could see nothing 
 in it but grass and mutton. 
 
 Lord B set out for London to-day, 
 
 to vote on the Catholic question, which is 
 to come on immediatelv. His ffoino- at this 
 moment, when he is far from well, is no 
 little sacrifice of personal comfort ; but never 
 did he consider self when a duty was to 
 be performed. I wish the question was 
 carried, and he safely back again. What 
 
6 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 would our political friends say if they knew 
 how strongly I urged him not to go, hut to 
 send his proxy to Lord Rosslyn? I would 
 not have consented to his departure, were it 
 not that the Duke of Wellington takes such 
 an interest in the measure. 
 
 How times are changed ! and how much 
 is due to those statesmen who yield up their 
 own convictions for the general good ! There 
 is no action in the whole life of the Duke 
 more glorious than his self-abnegation on this 
 occasion, nor is that of the Tory leader of 
 the House of Commons less praiseworthy; 
 yet how many attacks will both incur by 
 this sacrifice of their opinions to expediency ! 
 for when were the actions of public men 
 judged free from the prejudices that discolour 
 and distort all viewed through their medium? 
 That which originates in the purest patriot- 
 ism, will be termed an unworthy tergiversa- 
 tion ; but the reward of these great and good 
 men will be found in their own breasts. I 
 
PARIS. 7 
 
 am triste and unsettled, so will trv the effect 
 of a drive in the Bois de Bouloone. 
 
 I was forcibly reminded yesterday of the 
 truth of an observation of a clever French 
 writer, who says, that to judge the real merit 
 of a cook, one should sit down to table without 
 the least feeling of appetite, as the triumph 
 of the culinary art was not to satisfy huno^er 
 but to excite it. Our new cook achieved this 
 triumph yesterday, for he is so inimitable an 
 artist, that the flavour of his plats made even 
 me, albeit unused to the sensation of hunger, 
 feel disposed to render justice to them. Mon- 
 sieur Louis — for so he is named — has a great 
 reputation in his art ; and it is evident, even 
 from the proof furnished of his savoir faire 
 yesterday, that he merits it. 
 
 It is those only who have delicate appetites 
 that can truly appreciate the talent of a cook ; 
 for they who devour soon lose the power of 
 tasting. No symptom of that terrible malady, 
 well named by the ingenious Grimod de la 
 
8 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Reyniere remors d^estomac, but vulgarly 
 called indigestion, follows my unusual in- 
 dulgence in entrees and entremets, another 
 delightful proof of the admirable skill of 
 Monsieur Louis. 
 
 The English are apt to spoil French cooks 
 by neglecting the entrees for the piece de 
 resistance, and, when the cook discovers this, 
 which he is soon enabled to do by the slight 
 breaches made in the first, and the large 
 one in the second, his amour propre becomes 
 wounded, and he begins to neglect his entrees. 
 Be warned, then, by me, all ye who wish 
 your cooks to retain their skill, and however 
 your native tastes for that English favourite 
 dish denominated " a plain joint " may pre- 
 vail, never fail to taste the entree, 
 
 A propos of cooks, an amusing instance of 
 the amour propre of a Parisian cook was 
 
 related to me by /the gourmand Lord , 
 
 the last time we dined at his house. Wishing 
 to have a particular sauce made which he 
 
PARIS. 9 
 
 had tasted in London, and for which he got 
 the receipt, he explained to his cook, an 
 artist of great celebrity, how the component 
 parts were to be amalgamated. 
 
 " How, my lord ! " exclaimed Monsieur le 
 cmsinier ; ** an English sauce! Is it possible 
 your lordship can taste any thing so barba- 
 rous? A\Tiy, years ago, my lord, a profound 
 French philosopher described the English 
 as a pe-ople who had a hundred religions, 
 but only one sauce." 
 
 More anxious to get the desired sauce 
 than to defend the taste of his country, or 
 correct the impertinence of his cook. Lord 
 
 immediately said, " On recollection, I 
 
 find I made a mistake ; the sauce I mean is 
 a la Hollandaise, and not a V Anglaise.^^ 
 
 " A la honheur, my lord, c' est autre 
 chose ;^' and the sauce was forthwith made, 
 and was served at table the day we dined 
 with Lord . 
 
 An anecdote is told of this same cook, 
 
 B 2 
 
10 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 which Lord relates with great good 
 
 humour. The cook of another English noble- 
 man conversing with him, said, " My master 
 is like yours — a great gourmand^ 
 
 ** Pardon me," replied the other ; " there 
 is a vast difference between our masters. 
 Yours is simply a gourmand^ mine is an 
 epicure as well." 
 
 The Due de Talleyrand, dining with us 
 a few days ago, observed that to give a 
 perfect dinner, the Amphitryon should have 
 a French cook for soups, entrees^ and entre- 
 mets ; an English rotisseur, and an Italian 
 confiseur, as without these, a dinner could 
 not be faultless. ** But, alas!" said he — 
 and he sighed while he spoke it — ^' the Revo- 
 lution has destroyed our means of keeping 
 these artists ; and we eat now to support 
 nature, instead of, as formerly, when we ate 
 because it was a pleasure to eat." The good- 
 natured Due, nevertheless, seemed to eat his 
 dinner as if he still continued to take a 
 
PARIS. 11 
 
 pleasure in the operation, and did ample 
 justice to a certain plat des cailles farcies 
 which he pronounced to be perfect. 
 
 Our landlord, le Marquis de L , has 
 
 sent to offer us the refusal of our beautiful 
 
 abode. The Due de X has proposed to 
 
 take it for fourteen or twenty-one years, at 
 the same rent we pay (an extravagant one, 
 by the bye), and as we only took it for a 
 year, we must either leave or hire it for 
 fourteen or twentv-one vears, which is out 
 of the question. 
 
 Nothing^ can be more fair or honourable 
 
 than the conduct of the Marquis de L , 
 
 for he laid before us the offer of the Due 
 
 de N ; but as we do not intend to 
 
 remain more than two or three years more 
 in Paris, we must leave this charming house, 
 to our infinite regret, when the year for 
 which we have hired it expires. Gladly 
 would we have enoraored it for two, or even 
 
12 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 three years more, but this is now impossible ; 
 and we shall have the trouble of again going 
 the round of house -hunting-. 
 
 When I look on the suite of rooms in which 
 I have passed such pleasant days, I am filled 
 with regret at the prospect of leaving them, 
 but it cannot be helped, so it is useless to 
 repine. We have two months to look about 
 us, and many friends who are occupied in 
 assisting us in the search. 
 
 A letter from Lord B ; better, but 
 
 still ailing. He presided at the Covent 
 Garden Theatrical Fund Dinner, at the 
 request of the Duke of Clarence. He writes 
 me that he met there Lord F. Leveson 
 Gower,* who was introduced to him by Mr. 
 Charles Greville, and of whom he has con- 
 ceived a very high opinion. Lord B 
 
 partakes my belief in physiognomy, but in 
 this instance the impression formed from the 
 
 * Now Lord Francis Egerton. _^ 
 
PARIS. 13 
 
 countenance is justified by the reputation of 
 the individual, who is universally esteemed 
 and respected. 
 
 Went again to see the Hotel Monaco, 
 
 which Lord B writes me to close for ; 
 
 but its gloomy and uncomfortable bed -rooms 
 discourage me, mcilgre the splendour of the 
 salons, which are decidedly the finest I have 
 seen at Paris. I will decide on nothing- until 
 Lord B 's return. 
 
 Went to the College of St. Barbe to-day, 
 with the Duchesse de Guiche, to see her 
 sons. Great was their delight at the meeting. 
 I thought they would never have done em- 
 bracing her ; and I, too, was warmly wel- 
 comed bv these dear and affectionate bovs, 
 who kissed me again and again. They have 
 already won golden opinions at the college, 
 by their rare aptitude in acquiring all that 
 is taught them, and by their docility and 
 manly characters. 
 
 The masters paid the Duchesse the highest 
 
14 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 compliments on the progress her sons had made 
 previously to their entrance at St. Barbe, and 
 declared that they had never met any children 
 so far advanced for their age. I shared the 
 triumph of this admirable mother, whose 
 fair cheeks glowed, and whose beautiful eyes 
 sparkled, on hearing the eulogiums pronounced 
 on her boys. Her observation to me was, 
 "How pleased their father will be!" 
 
 St. Barbe is a little world in itself, and a 
 very different world to any I had previously 
 seen. In it every thing smacks of learning, 
 and every body seems w^holly engrossed by 
 study. 
 
 The spirit of emulation animates all, and 
 excites the youths into an application so 
 intense as to be often found injurious to 
 health. The ambition of surpassing all com- 
 petitors in their studies operates so powerfully 
 on the generality of the eUves^ that the masters 
 frequently find it more necessary to moderate, 
 than to urge the ardour of the pupils. A 
 
PARIS. 15 
 
 boy's reputation for abilities soon gets knov\Ti, 
 but he must possess no ordinary ones to be 
 able to distinguish himself in a college where 
 e\er\ victory in erudition is sure to be achieved 
 by a well -contested battle. 
 
 We passed through the quarter of Paris 
 known as the Pays Latin, the aspect of 
 which is singular, and is said to have been 
 little changed during the last centurv. The 
 houses, chiefly occupied by literary men, look 
 quaint and picturesque. Every man one sees 
 passing has the air of an author, not as authors 
 now are, or at least as popular ones are, well- 
 clothed and prosperous-looking, but as authors 
 were when genius could not always command 
 a good wardrobe, and walked forth in habili- 
 ments more derogatory to the age in which 
 it was neglected, than to the individual whose 
 poverty compelled such attire. 
 
 Men in rustv threadbare black, with books 
 under the arm, and some with spectacles on 
 
16 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 nose, reading while they walked along, might 
 be encountered at every step. 
 
 The women, too, in the Pays Latin, have 
 a totally different aspect to those of every 
 other part of Paris. The desire to please, 
 inherent in the female breast, seems to have 
 expired in them, for their dress betrays a 
 total neglect, and its fashion is that of some 
 forty years ago. Even the youthful are equally 
 negligent, which indicates their conviction that 
 the men they meet seldom notice them, proving 
 the truth of the old saying, that women 
 dress to please men. 
 
 The old, with locks of snow, who had grown 
 into senility in this erudite quarter, still 
 paced the same promenade which they had 
 trodden for many a year, habit having fixed 
 them where hope once led their steps. The 
 middle - aged, too, might be seen with 
 hair beginning to blanch from long hours 
 devoted to the midnight lamp, and faces 
 
PARIS. 17 
 
 marked with " the pale cast of thought." 
 Hope, though less sangume in her promises, 
 still lures them on, and they pass the venerable 
 old, unconscious that they themselves are suc- 
 ceeding them in the same Ufe of study, to 
 be followed by the same results, privation, and 
 solitude, until death closes the scene. And 
 yet a life of study is, perhaps, the one in 
 which the privations, compelled by poverty, 
 are the least felt to be a hardship. 
 
 Studv, like wtue, is its own exceedino^ 
 great reward, for it engrosses as well as ele- 
 vates the mind above the sense of the wants 
 so acutelv felt bv those who have no intel- 
 lectual pursuits ; and many a student has 
 forgotten his own privations when reading 
 the history of the great and good who have 
 been exposed to even still more trying ones. 
 Days pass uncounted in such occupations. 
 Youth fleets away, if not happily, at least 
 tranquilly, while thus employed ; and maturity 
 glides into age, and age drops into the grave, 
 
18 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 scarcely conscious of the gradations of each, 
 owing to the mind having been filled with 
 a continuous train of thought, engendered 
 by study. 
 
 I have been reading some French poems 
 by Madame Amabel Tastu ; and very beau- 
 tiful they are. A sweet and healthy tone of 
 mind breathes through them, and the pensive- 
 ness that characterises many of them, marks a 
 reflecting spirit imbued with tenderness. There 
 is great harmony, too, in the versification, as 
 well as purity and elegance in the diction. 
 How much some works make us wish to 
 know their authors, and vice versa ! I feel, 
 while reading her poems, that I should like 
 Madame Amabel Tastu ; while other books, 
 whose cleverness I admit, convince me I 
 should not like the writers. 
 
 A book must always resemble, more or 
 less, its author. It is the mind, or at least 
 a portion of it, of the individual ; and, however 
 circumstances may operate on it, the natural 
 
PARIS. ^ 19 
 
 quality must always prevail and peep forth 
 in spite of every effort to conceal it. 
 
 Livinof much in societv seldom fails to dete- 
 riorate the force and originality of superior 
 minds ; because, though unconsciously, the per- 
 sons who possess them are prone to fall into the 
 habits of thought of those with whom they 
 pass a considerable portion of their time, and 
 suffer themselves to deo^enerate into takins^ an 
 interest in puerilities on which, in the privacy 
 of their study, they would not bestow a single 
 thouofht. Hence, we are sometimes shocked at 
 observing glaring inconsistencies in the works 
 of writers, and find it difficult to imagine that 
 the grave reflection which pervades some of the 
 pages can emanate from the same mind that 
 dictated the puerilities abounding in others. 
 The author's profound thoughts were his o^^^l, 
 the puerilities were the result of the friction 
 of his mind with inferior ones : at least this 
 is mv theory, and, as it is a charitable one, 
 I like to indulge it. 
 
20 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 A pleasant party at dinner yesterday. Mr. 
 W. Spencer, the poet, was among the guests. 
 He was much more like the William Spencer 
 of former days than when he dined here be- 
 fore, knd was occasionally brilliant, though at 
 intervals he relapsed into moodiness. He 
 told some good stories of John Kemble, and 
 told them well ; but it seemed an effort to 
 him ; and, while the listeners were still smiling 
 at his excellent imitation of the great tra- 
 gedian, he sank back in his chair with an 
 air of utter abstraction. 
 
 I looked at him, and almost shuddered at 
 marking the ** change that had come o'er the 
 spirit of his dream ; " for whether the story 
 touched a chord that awakened some painful 
 reflection in his memory, or that the telling 
 it had exhausted him, I know not^ but his 
 countenance for some minutes assumed a care- 
 worn and haggard expression, and he then 
 glanced around at the guests with an air of 
 surprise, like one awakened from slumber. 
 
PARIS. 21 
 
 It is astonishing how little people observe 
 each other in society ! This inattention, ori- 
 ginating in a good breeding that proscribes 
 personal observation, has degenerated into 
 something that approaches very nearly to total 
 indifference, and I am persuaded that a man 
 might die at table seated between two others 
 without their being aware of it, until he 
 dropped from his chair. 
 
 Ci^'ilization has its disadvantages as well 
 as its advantages, and I think the conscious- 
 ness that one might expire between one's 
 neighbours at table without their noticing it, 
 is hardlv atoned for bv knowing- that thev will 
 not stare one out of countenance. I often 
 think, as I look around at a large dinner-party, 
 how few present have the slightest knowledge 
 of what is passing in the minds of the others. 
 The smile worn on many a face may be 
 assumed to conceal a sadness which those 
 who feel it are but too well aware would meet 
 with little sympathy, for one of the effects 
 
22 THE IDLER IN PARIS. 
 
 of modern civilization is the disregard for the 
 cares of others, which it engenders. 
 
 Madame de once said to me, *' I never 
 
 invite Monsieur de , because he looks 
 
 unhappy, and as if he expected to be ques- 
 tioned as to the cause." This naive confes- 
 sion of Madame de is what few would 
 
 make, but the selfishness that dictated it is 
 what society, en masse, feels and acts up to. 
 
 Monsieur de , talking of London last 
 
 evening, told the Count to be on his 
 
 guard not to be too civil to people when he 
 got there. The Count looked asto- 
 nished, and inquired the reason for the advice. 
 " Merely to prevent your being suspected of 
 having designs on the hearts of the women, 
 or the purses of the men," replied Monsieur 
 
 de ; ** for no one can evince in London 
 
 society the empresseynent peculiar to well-bred 
 Frenchmen without being accused of some 
 unworthy motive for it." 
 
 I defended my countrymen against the 
 
PARIS. 23 
 
 sweeping censure of the cynical Monsieur 
 
 de , who shook his head and declared 
 
 that he spoke ft'om observation. He added, 
 that persons more than usually polite are 
 always supposed to be poor in London, and 
 that as this supposition was the most injurious 
 to their reception in good society, he always 
 counselled his friends, when about to visit 
 it, to assume a hrusquerie of manner, and a 
 stinginess with regard to money, by which 
 means they were sure to escape the suspicion 
 of poverty ; as in England a parsimonious 
 expenditure and bluntness are supposed to 
 imply the possession of wealth. 
 
 I ventured to say that I could now under- 
 stand why it was that he passed for being 
 so rich in England — a coup de patte that 
 turned the lauo^h against him. 
 
 Mr. de is a perfect cynic, and piques 
 
 himself on savino- what he thinks, — a habit 
 more frequently adopted by those who think 
 disagreeable, than agi^eeable things. 
 
 Dined yesterday at Madame C 's, and 
 
24 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 being Friday, had a diner maigre, than 
 which I know no dinner more luxurious, pro- 
 vided that the cook is a perfect artist, and 
 that the Amphitryon, as was the case in this 
 instance, objects not to expense. 
 
 The soupes and entrees left no room to 
 regret the absence of flesh or poultry from 
 their component parts, and the releves, in the 
 shape of a brochS rati, and a Turhot a la 
 Hollandaise, supplied the place of the usual 
 pieces de resistance. But not only was the 
 flavour of the entrees quite as good as if 
 they, were composed of meat or poultry, but 
 the appearance ofifered the same variety, and 
 the cutlets de jwisson and Jricandeau d'estu?^- 
 geon might have deceived all but the pro- 
 foundly learned in gastronomy, — they looked 
 so exactly like lamb and veal. 
 
 The second course ofifered equally delicate 
 substitutes for the usual dainties, and the most 
 fastidious epicure might have been more than 
 satisfied with the entremets. 
 
 The bishops in France are said to have 
 
PARIS. 25 
 
 had the most luxurious dinners imaginable on 
 what were erroneously styled fast-days ; and 
 their cooks had such a reputation for their 
 skill, that the having served a Monseigneur 
 d'Eglise was a passport to the kitchens of 
 all lovers of good eating. There are people 
 so profane as to insinuate that the excellence 
 at which the cooks arrived in dressing les 
 diners maigres is one of the causes why 
 Catholicism has continued to flourish ; but 
 this, of course, must be looked on as a mali- 
 cious hint of the enemies to that faith which 
 thus proves itself less addicted to indulgence 
 in the flesh than are its decrvers. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
CHAPTER 11. 
 
 The more I observe Lady C the more 
 
 surprised I am at the romantic feelings she 
 still indulges, and the illusions under which 
 she labours; — yes, lahows is the suitable 
 word, for it can be nothing short of laborious, 
 at her aofe, to work oneself into the belief 
 that love is an indispensable requisite for life. 
 Not the affection into which the love of one's 
 youth subsides, but the wild, the ungovernable 
 passion peculiar to the heroes and heroines 
 of novels, and young ladies and gentlemen 
 recently emancipated from boarding-schools 
 and colleges. 
 
 Poor Lady C , with so many estimable 
 
 qualities, what a pity it is she should have 
 
PARIS. 27 
 
 this weakness! She maintained in our con- 
 versation yesterday that true love could never 
 be extinguished in the heart, and that even 
 in ao-e it burnt with the same fire as when 
 first kindled. I quoted to her a passage 
 from Le Brun, who says — " L'amour pent 
 s'eteindre sans doute dans le coeur d'un 
 galant homme ; mais combien de dedommage- 
 mens n'a-t-il pas alors a offrirl L'estime, 
 Tamitie, la confiance, ne suffisent-elles pas 
 
 aux (places de la vieillesse?" Lady C 
 
 thinks not. 
 
 Talking last night of , some one ob- 
 served that '' it was disagreeable to have such 
 a neighbour, as he did nothing but watch 
 and interfere in the concerns of others." 
 
 *' Give me in preference such a man as Le 
 
 Comte ," said jMonsieur , slily, 
 
 " who never bestows a thought but on self, 
 and is too much occupied with that interesting 
 subject to have time to meddle with the affairs 
 of other people." 
 
28 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " You are right," observed Madame — — , 
 gravely, believing him to be serious ; " it is 
 much preferable." 
 
 *' But surely," said I, determined to con- 
 tinue the mystification, "you are unjustly 
 severe in your animadversions on poor Mon- 
 sieur . Does he not prove himself a 
 
 true philanthropist in devoting the time to 
 the affairs of others that might be usefully 
 occupied in attending to his own ? " 
 
 " You are quite right," said Mrs. ; 
 
 "I never viewed his conduct in this light 
 before ; and now that I understand it I really 
 begin to like him, — a thing I thought quite 
 impossible before you convinced me of the 
 goodness of his motives." 
 
 How many Mrs. 's there are in the 
 
 world, with minds ductile as wax, ready to 
 receive any impression one wishes to give 
 them ! Yet I reproached myself for assisting 
 to hoax her, when I saw the smiles excited 
 by her credulity. 
 
PARIS. ^i) 
 
 Mademoiselle Delphine Gay* is one of 
 the agreeable proofs that genius is hereditary. 
 I have been reading some productions of hers 
 that greatly pleased me. Her poetry is grace- 
 ful, the thoughts are natural, and the versifica- 
 tion is polished. She is a veiy youthful au- 
 thoress, and a beauty as well as a belle esprit. 
 Her mother's novels have beguiled many an 
 hour of mine that mio^ht otherwise have been 
 wearv, for thev have the rare advantagfe of 
 displaying an equal knowledge of the world 
 with a lively sensibility. 
 
 All Frenchwomen write well. They possess 
 the art of giving interest even to trifles, and 
 have a natural eloquence de plume, as well 
 as de langue, that renders the task an easv 
 one. It is the custom in Eno^land to decrv 
 French novels, because the English unreason- 
 ably expect that the literature of other coun- 
 tries should be judged by the same criterion bv 
 
 * Now Madame Eraile de Girardin 
 
30 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 which they examine their own, without mak- 
 ing sufficient allowance for the di;fferent man- 
 ners and habits of the nations. Without 
 arrogating to myself the pretension of a critic, 
 I should be unjust if I did not acknowledge 
 that I have perused many a French novel 
 by modern authors, from which I have derived 
 interest and pleasure. 
 
 The French critics are not loath to display 
 their acumen in reviewing the works of their 
 compatriots, for they not only analyze the 
 demerits with pungent causticity, but apply 
 to them the severest of all tests, that of ridi- 
 cule ; in the use of which dangerous weapon 
 they excel. 
 
 House-hunting the greater part of the day. 
 Oh the weariness of such an occupation, and, 
 above all, after having lived in so delightful 
 a house as the one we inhabit ! Many of our 
 French friends have come and told us that 
 they had found hotels exactly to suit us ; and 
 we have driven next day to see them, when 
 
PARIS. 31 
 
 lo and behold ! these eligible mansions were 
 either situated in some disagreeable quartier, 
 or consisted of three fine salons de reception, 
 with some half-dozen miserable dormitories, 
 and a passage-room by way of salle-d-manger, 
 
 ThoLicrh Paris abounds with fine hotels 
 entre Cour et Javdin, they are seldom to be 
 let ; and those to be disposed of are generally 
 divided into suites of apartments, appropriated 
 to different persons. One of the hotels recom- 
 mended bv a friend was. on the Boulevards, 
 with the principal rooms commanding a full 
 view of that populous and noisy quarter of 
 Paris. I should have gone mad in such a 
 dwelling, for the possibility of reading, or 
 almost of thinkino' amidst such an ever-mov- 
 ing scene of bustle and din, would be out of 
 the question. 
 
 The modern French do not seem to appre- 
 ciate the comfort of quiet and seclusion in 
 the position of their abodes, for they talk of 
 the enlivening influence of a vicinity to these 
 
3^ THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 same Boulevards from which I shrink with 
 alarm. It was not so in foniier days ; witness 
 the delightful hotels before alluded to, entre 
 Cour et Jar din, in which the inhabitants, 
 although in the centre of Paris, might enjoy 
 all the repose peculiar to a house in the 
 country. There is something, I am inclined 
 to think, in the nature of the Parisians that 
 enables them to support noise better than we 
 can, — nay, not only to support, but even to 
 like it. 
 
 I received an edition of the works of 
 L. E. L. yesterday from London. She is 
 a charming poetess, full of imagination and 
 fancy, dazzling one moment by the brilliancy 
 of her flights, and the next touching the heart 
 by some stroke of pathos. How Byron would 
 have admired her genius, for it bears the 
 stamp of being influenced no less by a grace- 
 ful and fertile fancy than by a deep sensibility, 
 and the union of the two gives a peculiar 
 charm to her poems. 
 
PARIS. 33 
 
 Drove to the Bois de Boulogne to-day, with 
 
 the Comtesse d'O . I know no such hril- 
 
 liant talker as she is. No matter what may 
 be the subject of conversation, her wit flashes 
 brightly on all, and without the slightest ap- 
 pearance of effort or pretension. She speaks 
 from a mind overflowing wdth general informa- 
 tion, made available by a retentive memory, 
 a ready wit, and inexhaustible good spirits. 
 
 Letters from dear Italy. Shall I ever see 
 that delightful land again ? A letter, too, 
 from Mrs. Francis Hare, asking me to be 
 civil to some English friends of hers, who 
 are come to Paris, which I shall certainly 
 be for her sake. 
 
 A propos of the English, it is amusing to 
 witness the avidity with which many of them 
 not only accept but court civilities abroad, 
 and the sang froid wdth which they seem to 
 forget them when they return home. I have 
 as yet had no opportunity of judging person- 
 ally on this point, but I hear such tales on 
 
 c 2 
 
34 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the subject as would justify caution, if one 
 was disposed to extend hospitality with any 
 prospective view to gratitude for it, which 
 we never have done, and never will do. 
 
 Mine is the philosophy of , who, when 
 
 his extreme hospitality to his countrymen was 
 remarked on, answered, " I can't eat all 
 my good dinners alone, and if I am lucky 
 enough to find now and then a pleasant 
 guest, it repays me for the many dull ones 
 itxvited." I expect no gratitude for our hos- 
 pitality to our compatriots, and " Blessed are 
 they who expect not, for they will not be dis- 
 appointed." 
 
 Long Champs has not equalled my expecta- 
 tions. It is a dull affair after all, resembling 
 the drive in Hyde Park on a Sunday in May, 
 the promenade in the Cacina at Florence, in 
 the Corso at Rome, or the Chaija at Naples, 
 in all save the elegance of the dresses of the 
 women, in which Long Champs has an im- 
 measurable superiority. 
 
PARIS. 35 
 
 It is at Long Champs that the Parisian 
 spring fashions are first exhibited, and busy 
 are the modistes for many weeks previously in 
 putting their powers of invention to the test, 
 in order to bring out novelties, facsimiles of 
 Tvhich are, the ensuing week, forwarded to 
 England, Italy, Germany, Holland, and Rus- 
 sia. The coachmakers, saddlers, and horse- 
 dealers, are also put in requisition for this 
 epoch ; and, though the exhibition is no longer 
 comparable to what it was in form.er times, 
 when a luxurious extravagance not only in 
 dress, but in equipages, was- displayed, some 
 handsome and well-appointed carriages are 
 still to be seen. Among the most remark- 
 able for good taste, w^ere those of the 
 Princess Bagration, and Monsieur Schikler, 
 whose very handsome wife attracted more 
 admiration than the elegant vehicle in which 
 she was seated, or the fine steeds that 
 drew it. 
 
 Those who are disposed to question the 
 
36 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 beautv of French women, should have been at 
 Long Champs to-day, when their scepticism 
 would certainly have been vanquished, for I 
 saw several women there whose beauty could 
 admit of no doubt even by the most fastidious 
 critic of female charms. The Duchesse de 
 Guiche, however, bore off the bell from all 
 competitors, and so the spectators who crow^ded 
 the Champs Elysees seemed to think. Of her 
 may be said what Choissy stated of la Du- 
 chesse de la Valliere, she has " La grace plus 
 belle encore que la beaute.^* The handsome 
 Duchesse dTstrie and countless other beautes 
 a la mode were present, and well sustained the 
 reputation for beauty of the Parisian ladies. 
 
 The men caracoled between the carriages 
 on their proud and prancing steeds, followed 
 by grooms, a r Anglaise, in smart liveries, and 
 the people crowded the foot-paths on each 
 side of the drive, commenting aloud on the 
 equipages and their owners that passed be- 
 fore them. 
 
PARIS. 37 
 
 The promenade at Long Champs, which 
 takes place in the Holy AVeek, is said to owe 
 its origin to a religious procession that went 
 annually to a church so called, whence it by 
 degrees changed its character, and became a 
 scene of gaiety, in which the most extravagant 
 exhibitions of luxury were displayed. 
 
 One example, out of many, of this ex- 
 travagance, is furnished by a publication 
 of the epoch at which Long Champs was 
 in its most palmy state, when a certain 
 Mademoiselle du The, whose means of 
 indulging in inordinate expense were not 
 solely derived from her ostensible profession 
 as one of the performers attached to the Opera, 
 figured in the promenade in a carriage of the 
 most sumptuous kind, drawn by no less than 
 six thorouo[h-bred horses, the harness of which 
 was of blue morocco, studded with polished 
 steel ornaments, which produced the most 
 dazzlino^ effect. 
 
 That our times are improved in respect, at 
 least, to appearances, may be fairly concluded 
 
38 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 from the fact that no example of a similar 
 ostentatious display of luxury is ever now ex- 
 hibited by persons in the same position as 
 Mademoiselle du The ; and that if the same 
 folly that enabled her to indulge in such extra- 
 vagance still prevails, a sense of decency pre- 
 vents all public display of wealth so acquired. 
 Modern morals censure not people so much 
 for their vices as for the display of them, as 
 Alcibiades was blamed not for loving Nemea, 
 but for allowing himself to be painted reposing 
 on her lap. 
 
 Finished the perusal of Cinq Mars, by 
 Count Alfred de Vigny. It is an admirable 
 production, and deeply interested me. The 
 sentiments noble and elevated, without ever 
 degenerating into aught approaching to bom- 
 bast, and the pathos such as a manly heart 
 might feel, without incurring the accusation 
 of weakness. The author must be a man of 
 fine feelings, as well as of genius, — but were 
 they ever distinct ? I like to think they can- 
 not be, for my theory is, that the feelings are 
 
PARIS. 39 
 
 to genius what the chords are to a musical 
 instrument — they must be touched to produce 
 effect. 
 
 The style of Count Alfred de Vigny merits 
 the eulogium passed by Lord Shaftesbury on 
 that of an author in his time, of which he 
 wrote, '* It is free from that affected obscurity 
 and laboured pomp of language aiming at a 
 false sublime, with crowded simile and mixed 
 metaphor (the hobby-horse and rattle of the 
 
 Mus.es.") 
 
 dined with us yesterday, and, clever as 
 
 I admit him to be, he often displeases me by 
 his severe strictures on mankind. I told 
 him that he exposed himself to the suspicion 
 of censurinof it onlv because he had studied a 
 bad specimen of it (self) more attentively than 
 the good that fell in his way: a reproof that 
 turned the current of his conversation into 
 a more agreeable channel, though he did not 
 seem to like the hint. 
 
 It is the fashion for people now-a-days to 
 
40 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 affect this cynicism, and to expend their wit 
 at the expense of poor human nature, which is 
 ahused en masse for the sins of those who 
 ahuse it from judging of all others by self. 
 
 How different is , who thinks so well of 
 
 his species, that, like our English laws, he 
 disbelieves the existence of guilt until it is 
 absolutely proved, — a charity originating in a 
 superior nature, and a judgment formed from 
 an involuntary consciousness of it ! 
 
 suspects evil on all sides, and passes 
 
 his time in guarding against it. He dares not 
 indulge friendship, because he doubts the pos- 
 sibility of its being disinterested, and feels no 
 little self-complacency when the conduct of 
 those with whom he comes in contact justifies 
 his suspicions. , on the contrary, if some- 
 times deceived, feels no bitterness, because he 
 believes that the instance may be a solitary 
 one, and finds consolation in those whose truth 
 he has yet had no room to question. His is 
 the best philosophy, for though it cannot pre- 
 
PARIS. 41 
 
 elude occasional disappointment, it ensures 
 much happiness, as the indulgence of good 
 feelings invariably does, and he often creates 
 the good qualities he gives credit for, as few 
 persons are so bad as not to wish to justify the 
 favourable opinion entertained of them, as few 
 are so good as to resist the demoralising in- 
 fluence of unfounded suspicions. 
 
 A letter from Lord B , announcing a 
 
 majority of 105 on the bill of the Catholic 
 question. Lord Grey made an admirable 
 speech, with a happy allusion to the fact of 
 Lord Howard of Effingham, who commanded 
 the Eno^lish fleet in the reis^n of Elizabeth, 
 having, though a Roman Catholic, destroyed 
 the Armada under the anointed banner of the 
 Pope. What a triumphant refutation of the 
 notion that Roman Catholics dared not op- 
 pose the Pope ! Lord B writes, that the 
 
 brilliant and justly merited eulogium pro- 
 nounced bv Lord Grev on the Duke of WeL 
 
42 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 lington was rapturously received by the House. 
 How honourable to both /was the praise! I 
 feel delighted that Lord Grey should have 
 distinguished himself on this occasion, for he 
 is one of the friends in England whom I most 
 esteem. 
 
 dined here to-day. 'He reminds me 
 
 of the larva, which is the first state of animal 
 existence in the caterpillar, for his appetite is 
 voracious, and, as a French naturalist states 
 in describing- that insect, ** Tout est estomac 
 
 dans un larve." is of the opinion 
 
 of Aretseus, that the stomach is the great 
 source of pleasurable affections, and that 
 as Nature " abhors a vacuum," the more 
 filled it is the better. 
 
 Dining is a serious affair with . Soup, 
 
 fish, flesh, and fowl, disappear from his plate 
 with a rapidity that is really surprising ; and 
 while they are vanishing, not " into empty 
 air," but into the yawning abyss of his ra- ^ 
 
PARIS. 43 
 
 venous jaws, his eyes wander around, seeking 
 what next those same ravenous jaws may de- 
 vour. 
 
 On beholding a person indulge in such 
 gluttony, I feel a distaste to eating, as a 
 certain double - refined lady of my acquaint- 
 ance declared that witnessinof the demon- 
 strations of love between two persons of low 
 and vulo-ar habits so diso^usted her with the 
 tender passion, that she was sure she never 
 could experience it herself. 
 
 I have been reading La Chronique du Temps 
 de Charles IX., by Prosper Merimee, and 
 a most interesting and admirably written 
 book it is. Full of stirring scenes and inci- 
 dents, it contains the most graphic pictures 
 of the manners of the time in which the 
 story is placed, and the interest progresses, 
 never flaofmno^ from the commencement to 
 the end. This book will be greatly admired 
 in England, where the romances of our great 
 Northern Wizard have taught us to appreciate 
 
44 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the peculiar merit in which this ahounds. 
 Sir Walter Scott will be one of the first to 
 admire and render justice to this excellent 
 book, and to w^elcome into the field of 
 literature this highly gifted brother of the 
 craft. 
 
 The French writers deserve justice from 
 the English, for they invariably treat the 
 works of the latter with indulgence. Scolt 
 is not more read or esteemed in his own 
 country than here ; and even the produc- 
 tions of our young writers are more kindly 
 treated than those of their own youthful as- 
 pirants for fame. 
 
 French critics have much merit for this 
 amenity, because the greater number of them 
 possess a peculiar talent for the exercise of 
 their critical acumen, which renders the in- 
 dulgence of it, like that of the power of 
 ridicule, very tempting. Among the most 
 remarkable critics of the day is Jules Janin, 
 who though yet little more than a youth, 
 
PARIS. 45 
 
 evinces such talent as a reviewer as to 
 be the terror of mediocritv. His stvle is 
 pungent and vigorous, his satire searching 
 and biting, and his tact in pointing ridicule 
 unfailinof. He bids fair to take a most dis- 
 tinguished place in his profession. 
 
 Spent last evening in the Rue d'Anjou, 
 
 where I met the usual circle and . He 
 
 bepraised every one that was named during 
 the evening, and so injudiciously,^ that it was 
 palpable he knew little of those upon whom 
 he expended his eulogiums ; nay, he lauded 
 some whom he acknowled^^ed he had never 
 seen, on the same principle that actuated the 
 Romans of old who, havincr deified everv 
 bodv thev knew, erected at last an altar to 
 the unknown Gods, lest anv should bv chance 
 be omitted. 
 
 This habit of indiscriminate praise is almost 
 as fault V as that of general censure, and is, 
 in my opinion, more injurious to the praised 
 than the censure is to the abused, because 
 
46 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 people are prone to indulge a greater degree of 
 sympathy towards those attacked than towards 
 those who are commended. No one said 
 " i^men" to the praises heaped on some really 
 
 deserving people by , but several put in a 
 
 palliating ^^pourtant" to the ill-natured remarks 
 
 made by -, whose habit of abusing all who 
 
 chance to be named is quite as remarkable as 
 the other's habit of praising. I would prefer 
 
 being attacked by to being lauded by 
 
 , for the extravagance of the eulogiums of 
 
 the latter would excite more ill-will towards me 
 than the censures of the other, as the self- 
 love of the listeners disposes them to feel 
 more kindly to the one they can pity, than 
 to the person they are disposed to envy. 
 
 I never look at dear, good Madame C , 
 
 without thinking how soon we may, — nay, we 
 must lose her. At her very advanced age 
 we cannot hope that she will be long spared 
 to us ; yet her freshness of heart and wonder- 
 ful vivacitv of mind would almost cheat one 
 
PARIS. 47 
 
 into a hope of her long continuing amongst 
 us. 
 
 She drove out with me yesterday to the' 
 Bois de Boulogne, and, when remarking how 
 verdant and beautiful all around was looking, 
 exclaimed, " Ah ! why is no second spring 
 allowed to us ? I hear," continued she, 
 "people say they would not like to renew 
 their youth, but I cannot believe them. There 
 are times — would you believe it? — that I for- 
 get my age, and feel so young in imagination 
 that I can scarcely bring myself to think that 
 this heart, which is still so vouthful, can 
 appertain to the same frame to which is attached 
 this faded and wrinkled face," and she raised 
 her hand to her cheek. " Ah ! my dear 
 friend, it is a sad, sad thing to mark this 
 fearful change, and I never look in my 
 mirror without being shocked. The feelings 
 ought to change with the person, and the 
 heart should become as insensible as the 
 face becomes withered. 
 
48 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " The change in the face is so gradual, 
 
 too," continued Madame C . *' We see 
 
 ourselves after thirty -five, each day looking 
 a little less well (we are loath to think it 
 ugly), and we attribute it not to the true 
 cause, the approach of that enemy to beauty — 
 age, — but to some temporary indisposition, 
 a bad night's rest, or an unbecoming cap. 
 We thus go on cheating ourselves, but not 
 cheating others, until some day when the 
 light falls more clearly on our faces, and the 
 fearful truth stands revealed. Wrinkles have 
 usurped the place of dimples ; horrid lines, 
 traced by Time, have encircled the eyelids ; 
 the eyes, too, no longer bright and pellucid, 
 become dim ; the lips dry and colourless, the 
 teeth yellow, and the cheeks pale and faded, 
 as a dried rose-leaf long pressed in a hortus 
 siccus, 
 
 " Alas, alas ! who can help thinking of 
 all this when one sees the trees opening 
 into their rich foliage, the earth putting 
 
PARIS. 49 
 
 fortli its bright verdure, and the flowers 
 buddinof into bloom, while we resemble the 
 hoar and dreary winter, and scarcely retain 
 a trace of the genial summer we once knew." 
 This conversation suggested the following 
 lines, which I wish I could translate into 
 French verse to give to Madame C : 
 
 GRAY HAIRS. 
 
 Snowy blossoms of the grave 
 That now o'er care-worn temples wave, 
 Oh ! what change hath pass'd since ye 
 O 'er youthful brows fell carelessly I 
 In silken curls of ebon hue 
 That with such wild luxuriance grew, 
 The raven's dark and glossy wing 
 A richer shadow scarce could fling. 
 The brow that tells a tale of Care 
 That Sorrow's pen hath written there, 
 In characters too deeply traced 
 Ever on earth to be effaced, 
 Was then a page of spotless white. 
 Where Love himself might wish to write. 
 VOL. II. D 
 
50 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The jetty arches that did rise, 
 As if to guard the brilliant eyes, 
 Have lost their smoothness; — and no more 
 The eyes can sparkle as of yore : 
 They look like fountains form'd by tears, 
 Where perish 'd Hope in by-gone years. 
 The nose that served as I3 ridge between 
 The brow and mouth — for Love, I ween. 
 To pass — hath lost its sculptured air. 
 For Time, the spoiler, hath been there. 
 The mouth — ah ! where 's the crimson dye 
 That youth and health did erst supply ? 
 Are these pale lips that seldom smile. 
 The same that laugh 'd, devoid of guile. 
 Shewing within their coral cell 
 The shining pearls that there did dwell, 
 But dwell no more? The pearls are fled, 
 And homely teeth are in their stead. 
 The cheeks have lost the blushing rose 
 That once their surface could disclose; 
 A dull, pale tint has spread around. 
 Where rose and lily erst were found. 
 The throat, and bust — but, ah! forbear. 
 Let 's draw a veil for ever there ; 
 
PARIS. 51 
 
 Too fearful is 't to put in rhyme 
 The changes wrought by cruel Time. 
 The faithful mirror well reveals 
 The truth that flattery conceals ; 
 The charms once boasted, now are flown, 
 But mind and heart are still thine own ; 
 And thou canst see the wreck of years, 
 And ghost of beauty, without tears. 
 No outward change thy soul shouldst wring, 
 Oh ! mourn but for the change within ; 
 Grieve over bright illusions fled, 
 O'er fondly cherish'd hope, now dead, 
 O'er errors of the days of youth. 
 Ere wisdom taught the path of truth. 
 Then hail, ye blossoms of the grave. 
 That o'er the care-worn temples wave — 
 Sent to remind us of "that bourn. 
 Whence traveller can ne'er return ;" 
 The harbingers of peace and rest, 
 Where only mortals can be blest. 
 
CHAPTER IIL 
 
 Read Victor Hugo's Derniers Jours d^un 
 Condamne I It is powerfully written, and 
 the author identifies his feelings so strongly 
 with the condemned, that he must, while 
 writing the book, have experienced similar 
 emotions to those which a person in the same 
 terrible position would have felt. Wonderful 
 power of genius, that can thus excite sym- 
 pathy for the erring and the wretched, and 
 awaken attention to a subject but too little 
 thought of in our selfish times, namely, 
 the expediency of the abolition of capital 
 punishment! A perusal of Victor Hugo's 
 graphic book will do more to lead men's 
 
PARIS. 53 
 
 minds to reflect on this point than all the 
 dull essays, or as dull speeches, that may he 
 written or made on it. 
 
 Talking of to-day with , 
 
 she remarked that he had every sense but 
 common sense, and made light of this de- 
 ficiency. How frequently do we hear people 
 do this, as if the possession of talent or various 
 fine qualities can atone for its absence ! Com- 
 mon sense is not only positively necessary to 
 render talent available by directing its proper 
 application, but is indispensable as a monitor 
 to warn men against error. Without this 
 guide the passions and feelings will be ever 
 leading men astray, and even those with the 
 best natural dispositions will fall into error. 
 
 Common sense is to the individual what the 
 compass is to the mariner — it enables him to 
 steer safely through the 'rocks, shoals, and whirl- 
 pools that intersect his way. Were the lives 
 of criminals accurately known, I am persuaded 
 that it would be found that from a want of 
 
54 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 common sense had proceeded their guilt ; for 
 a clear perception of crime would do more to 
 check its perpetration, than the goodness of 
 heart which is so frequently urged as a pre- 
 ventive ao^ainst it. 
 
 Conscience is the only substitute for com- 
 mon sense, but even this will not supply its 
 place in all cases. Conscience will lead a man 
 to repent or atone for crime, but common sense 
 will preclude his committing it by enabling 
 him to judge of the result. I frequently hear 
 people say, " So and so are very clever," or 
 " verv cunnino- and are well calculated to 
 
 ft/ o 
 
 make their way in the world." This opinion 
 seems to me to be a severe satire on the world, 
 for as cunning can only appertain to a mean 
 intellect, to which it serves as a poor sub- 
 stitute for sense, it argues ill for the world to 
 suppose it can be taken in by it. 
 
 I never knew a sensible, or a good person, 
 who was cunning ; and I have known so many 
 weak and wicked ones who possessed this 
 
PARIS. 55 
 
 despicable quality, that I hold it in abhor- 
 rence, except in very young children, to whom 
 Providence gives it before they arrive at good 
 sense. 
 
 Went a round of the curiosity shops on the 
 Quai d'Orsay, and bought an amber vase of 
 rare beauty, said to have once belonged to the 
 Empress Josephine. When I see the beau- 
 tiful objects collected together in these shops, 
 I often think of their probable histories, and 
 of those to whom they once belonged. Each 
 seems to identify itself with the former 
 0T\'ner, and conjures up in my mind a little 
 romance. 
 
 A vase of rock crystal, set in precious stones, 
 seen to-dav, could never have belonored to auo^ht 
 but some beauty, for whom it was selected by 
 an adorino' lover or husband, ere vet the 
 honeymoon had passed. A chased gold etuU 
 em'iched vAih oriental achates and brilliants, 
 must have appertained to some gvande dame^ 
 on whose table it rested in a richlv-decorated 
 
56 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 salon; and could it speak, what piquant dis- 
 closures might it not make! 
 
 The fine old watch, around the dial of 
 which sparkle diamonds, and on the hack 
 the motto, executed in .the same precious 
 stones, ** Vous mefaites ouhlier les lieures,^^ 
 once adorned the slender waist of some dainty 
 dame, — a nuptial gift. The silvery sound of 
 its hell often reminded her of the flight of 
 Time, and her caro sposo of the effects of it 
 on his inconstant heart, long hefore her mirror 
 told her of the ravages of the t}Tant. The 
 fiacon so tastefully ornamented, has heen held 
 to delicate nostrils when the megrim — that 
 malady peculiar to refined organizations and 
 susceptible nerves — has assailed its fair owner; 
 and the heart-shaped pincushion of crimson 
 velvet, inclosed in its golden case and stuck 
 with pins, has heen likened by the giver to 
 his own heart, pierced by the darts of Love — 
 a simile that probably displeased not the fair 
 creature to whom it was addressed. 
 
PARIS. 57 
 
 Here are the expensive and tasteful gifts, 
 the gciges d*amour, not often disinterested, 
 as brio'ht and beautiful as when thev left the 
 hands of the jeweller ; but the givers and the 
 receivers where are thev? ^Mouldered in the 
 grave long, long years ago ! Through how many 
 hands may these objects not have passed since 
 Death snatched away the persons for whom 
 thev were orio^inallv desicmed! And here 
 thev are in the icmoble custodv of some avari- 
 cious vender, who ha^Tiig obtained them at 
 the sale of some departed amatem' for less 
 than half their first cost, now expects to extort 
 more than double. 
 
 He takes them up in his unwashed fingers, 
 turns them — oh, profanation ! — round and 
 round, in order to display their various merits, 
 descants on the delicacy of the workmanship, 
 the shaq)ness of the chisehng, the pure water 
 of the brilliants, and the fine taste displayed 
 in the form ; tells a hundred lies about the 
 sum he srave for them, the offers he has 
 
 D 2 
 
58 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 refused, the persons to whom they once be- 
 longed, and those who wish to purchase 
 them ! 
 
 The JlacoJi of some defunct prude is placed 
 side by side with the vinaigrette of some jolie 
 danseuse who was any thing but prudish. 
 How shocked would the original owner of 
 the flacon feel at the friction ! The fan of 
 some grande dame de la cour touches the 
 diamond - mounted etui of the wife of some 
 financier, who would have given half her 
 diamonds to enter the circle in which she 
 who once owned this fan found more ennui 
 than amusement. The cane of a deceased 
 philosopher is in close contact with the golden- 
 hilted sword of 2^ petit maitre de Vancien regime, 
 and the sparkling tahatiere of a Musque 
 Marquis, the partaker if not the cause of 
 half his succ^s dans le monde, is placed by 
 the chapelet of a religieuse de haute naissance, 
 who often perhaps dropped a tear on the beads 
 as she counted them in saying her Ave Marias, 
 
TARIS. 59 
 
 t 
 
 when some unbidden thought of the world 
 she had resigned usurped the place of her 
 aspirations for a brighter and more enduring 
 world. 
 
 ** And so 't will be when I am gone," as 
 Moore's beautiful sono^ savs : the rare and 
 beautiful bijouterie which I have collected 
 with such pains, and looked on \d\h such 
 pleasure, will probably be scattered abroad, 
 and find their resting places not in gilded 
 salons, but in the dingy coffers of the wily 
 hrocanteur, whose exorbitant demands will pre- 
 clude their finding purchasers. Even these 
 inanimate and puerile objects have their 
 moral, if people would but seek it ; but what 
 has not, to a reflecting mind? com- 
 plained bitterly to-day, of having been at- 
 tacked by an anomTnous scribbler. I was 
 surprised to see a man accounted clever and 
 sensible, so much annoyed by what I con- 
 sider so wholly beneath his notice. It requires 
 
60 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 only a knowledge of the world and a self- 
 respect to enable one to treat such attacks 
 with the contempt they merit; and those 
 who allow themselves to be mortified by 
 them must be deficient in these necessary 
 qualifications for passing smoothly through 
 life. 
 
 It seems to me to indicate great weakness 
 of mind, when a person permits his peace to 
 be at the mercy of every anonymous scribbler 
 who, actuated by envy or hatred (the invariable 
 causes of such attacks), writes a libel on him. 
 If a person so attacked would but reflect that 
 few, if any, who have acquired celebrity, or 
 have been favoured by fortune, have ever 
 escaped similar assaults, he w^ould be disposed 
 to consider them as the certain proofs of a 
 merit, the general acknowledgment of which 
 has excited the ire of the envious, thus dis- 
 played by the only mean within their reach — 
 anonymous abuse. Anonymous assailants may 
 
PARIS. 61 
 
 be likened to the cuttle-fish, which employs 
 the inky secretions it forms as a means of 
 tormenting its enemy and baffling pursuit. 
 
 I have been reading the poems of Mrs. 
 Hemans, and exquisite they are. They affect 
 me like sacred music, and never fail to excite 
 religious sentiments. England only could have 
 produced this poetess, and peculiar circum- 
 stances were necessary to the developement 
 of her genius. The music of the versifica- 
 tion harmonises well with the elevated cha- 
 racter of the thoughts which inspire the reader 
 (at least such is their effect on me) with a 
 pensive sentiment of resignation that is not 
 without a deep charm to a mind that loves 
 to withdraw itself from the turmoil and bustle 
 incidental to a life passed in a gay and bril- 
 liant capital. 
 
 The mind of this charming poetess must 
 be like an ^olian harp, that every sighing 
 wdnd awakes to music, but to grave and chast- 
 ened melody, the full charm of which can only 
 
62 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 be truly appreciated by those who have 
 sorrowed, and who look beyond this earth for 
 repose. Well might Goethe write, 
 
 " SOuo bu ha^ (Senie erbili^/ 
 ©rbilidft bu and) jugleic^ bte maxttvom/'* 
 
 for where is Genius to be found that has not 
 been tried by suffering? 
 Moore has beautifully said, 
 
 " The hearts that are soonest awake to the flowers, 
 Are always the first to be pierced by the thorns ; " 
 
 and so it is with poets : they feel intensely be- 
 fore they can make others feel even superficially. 
 And there are those who can talk lightly 
 and irreverently of the sufferings from which 
 springs such exquisite, such glorious music, 
 unconscious that the fine organization and 
 delicate susceptibility of the minds of Genius 
 
 * " Where thou beholdest Genius, 
 
 There thou beholdest, too, the martyr's crown." 
 
PARIS. 
 
 63 
 
 which give such precious gifts to delight 
 others, receive deep wounds from weapons 
 that could not make an incision on im- 
 penetrable hearts like their ovati. Yes, the 
 hearts of people of genius may be said to 
 resemble the American maple -trees, which 
 must be pierced ere they yield their honied 
 treasures. 
 
 If ]\Irs. Hemans had been as happy as she 
 deserved to be, it is probable that she would 
 never have written the exquisite poems I 
 have been reading ; for the fulness of content 
 leaves no room for the sweet and bitter fancies 
 eno-endered bv an imao^ination that finds its 
 Hippocrene in the fountain of Sorrow, whose 
 source is in the heart, and can only flow when 
 touched by the hand of Care. 
 
 Well may England be proud of such 
 
 ^ poetesses as she can now boast! Joanna 
 
 Baillie, the noble-minded and elevated; ^liss 
 
 Bowles, the pure, the true; Miss Mitford, 
 
 the gifted and the natural ; and Mrs. Hemans 
 
64 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and Miss Landon, though last not least in 
 the galaxy of Genius, with imaginations as 
 brilliant as their hearts are generous and 
 tender. Who can read the productions of 
 these gifted women, without feeling a lively 
 interest in their welfare, and a pride in 
 belonging to the country that has given them 
 birth ? 
 
 Lord B arrived yesterday, and. Heaven 
 
 be thanked ! is in better health. He says the 
 spring is three weeks more advanced at Paris 
 than in London. He is delighted at the 
 Catholic Question having been carried; and 
 trusts, as I do, that Ireland will derive the 
 greatest benefit from the measure. How few, 
 with estates in a province w^here so strong 
 a prejudice is entertained against Roman 
 Catholics as exists in the north of Ireland, 
 
 would have voted as Lord B has done ; 
 
 but, like his father. Lord B never allows 
 
 personal interest to interfere in the discharge 
 of a duty! If there were many such landlords 
 
PARIS. 
 
 65 
 
 in Ireland, prejudices, the bane of that 
 
 country, would soon subside. Lord B 
 
 came back laden with presents for me. Some 
 of them are quite beautiful, and would excite 
 the envy of half my sex. 
 
 Received letters from good, dear Sir William 
 Gell, and the no less dear and good Arch- 
 bishop of Tarentum, both urging us to return 
 to Italy to see them, as they say, once more 
 before they die. Receiying letters from absent 
 friends who are dear to us, has almost as 
 much of sadness as of pleasure in it ; for 
 althouo^h it is consolatory to know that they 
 are in life, and are not unmindful of us, still 
 a closely wi'itten sheet of paper is but a poor 
 substitute for the animated conversation, the 
 cordial grasp of the hand, and the kind glance 
 of the eye : and we become more sensible 
 of the distance that divides us when letters 
 written many days ago arrive, and we remem- 
 ber Tvith dread that, since these very epistles 
 were indited, the hands that traced them may 
 
66 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 be chilled by death. This fear, which recurs 
 so often to the mind in all cases of absence 
 from those dear to us, becomes still more vivid 
 where infirmity of health and advanced age 
 render the probability of the loss of friends 
 the greater. 
 
 Italy — dear, beautiful Italy — with all its 
 sunshine and attractions, would not be the 
 same delightful residence to me if I no longer 
 found there the friends w^ho made my sejour 
 there so pleasant ; and among these the Arch- 
 bishop and Sir William Gell stand pro- 
 minent. 
 
 Gell writes me that some new and interest- 
 ing discoveries have been made at Pompeii. 
 Would that I could be transported there for 
 a few days to see them with him, as I have 
 beheld so many before when we w^ere present at 
 several excavations together, and saw exposed 
 to the light of day objects that had been for 
 two thousand years buried in darkness ! There 
 was a thrilling feeling of interest awakened 
 
PARIS. 67 
 
 ill the breast by the first view of these so- 
 long-interred articles of use or ornament of 
 a bygone generation, and on the spot where 
 their owners perished. It was as though the 
 secrets of the grave were revealed ; and that, 
 to convince us of the perishable coil of which 
 mortals are formed, it is given us to behold 
 how much more durable are the commonest 
 utensils of daily use than the frames of those 
 who boast themselves lords of the creation. But 
 here am I moralizing, when I ought to be 
 taking advantage of this glorious day by a 
 promenade in the Bois de Boulogne, where 
 
 I promised to conduct Madame d' ; so 
 
 allons en voiture. 
 
 Read the Disowned, and like it exceed- 
 ingly. It is full of beautiful thoughts, spark- 
 ling with \vit, teeming with sentiment, and 
 each and all of them based on immutable 
 truths. The more I read of the works of 
 this highly gifted writer, the more am I 
 delighted with themj for his philosophy passes 
 
68 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 through the alembic of a mind glowing with 
 noble and generous sentiments, of which it 
 imbibes the hues. 
 
 The generality of readers pause not to 
 reflect on the truth and beauty of the senti- 
 ments to be found in novels. They hurry on 
 to the denoument ; and a stirring incident, 
 skilfully managed, which serves to develope 
 the plot, finds more admirers than the noblest 
 thoughts, or most witty maxims. Yet as 
 people who read nothing else, will read novels, 
 authors like Mr. Bulwer, whose minds are 
 overflowing with genius, are compelled to 
 make fiction the vehicle for giving to the 
 public thoughts and opinions that are deserv- 
 ing of a higher grade of literature. 
 
 The greater portion of novel readers, liking 
 not to be detained from the interest of the 
 story by any extraneous matter, however ad- 
 mirable it may be, skip over the passages that 
 most delight those who read to reflect, and 
 not for mere amusement. 
 
PARIS. 69 
 
 I find myself continually pausing over the 
 admirable and profound reflections of Mr. 
 Bulwer, and almost regret that his writings 
 do not meet the public as the papers of the 
 Spectator did, when a single one of them 
 was deemed as essential to the breakfast- 
 table of all lovers of literature as a morning 
 journal is now to the lovers of news. The 
 merit of the thoughts would be then duly 
 appreciated, instead of being hastily passed 
 over in the excitement of the stor}' which they 
 intersect. 
 
 A long visit from , and, as usual, 
 
 politics furnished the topic. How I wish 
 people would never talk politics to me ! I 
 have no vocation for that abstruse science, — 
 a science which even those who devote all their 
 time and talents to it, but rarely arrive at a 
 proficiency. In vain do I profess my igno- 
 rance and inability ; people will not believe 
 me, and think it necessary to enter into political 
 discussions that ennui me beyond expression. 
 
70 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 If ^ is to be credited, Charles the Tenth 
 
 and his government are so unpopular that his 
 reign will not pass without some violent com- 
 motion. A fatality appears to attend this 
 family, which, like the house of Stuart, seems 
 doomed never to conciliate the affections of 
 the people. And yet, Charles the Tenth is 
 said not to be disposed to tyrannical measures, 
 neither is he without many good qualities. 
 But the last of the Stuart sovereigns also was 
 naturally a humane and good man, yet he 
 was driven from his kingdom and his, throne, — 
 a proof that weakness of mind is, perhaps, of 
 all faults in a monarch, the one most likely 
 to compromise the security of his dynasty. 
 
 The restoration of the Stuarts after Crom- 
 well, was hailed with much more enthusiasm 
 in England than that of Louis the Eighteenth, 
 after the abdication of the Emperor Napoleon. 
 Yet that enthusiasm was no pledge that the 
 people would bear from the descendants of 
 the ill-fated Charles the First — that most per- 
 
PARIS. 71 
 
 feet of all gentlemen and meekest of Christians 
 — what they deprived him of not only his 
 kingdom but his life for attempting. 
 
 The house of Bourbon, like that of Stuart, 
 has had its tra^^edv, offerinor a fearful lesson 
 to sovereigns and a terrific example to sub- 
 jects. It has had, also, its restoration ; and, 
 if report may be credited, the parallel will 
 not rest here : for there are those who assert 
 that as James was supplanted on the throne 
 of Enofland bv a relative while vet the leo^iti- 
 m^te and unoffending heir lived, so will also 
 the place of Charles the Tenth be filled by 
 one between whom and the crown stand two 
 legitimate barriers. Time will tell how far 
 the predictions of are just ; but, e?i attend- 
 ant, I never can believe that ambition can 
 so blind one who possesses all that can render 
 life a scene of happiness to himself and of 
 usefulness to others, to throw away a positive 
 good for the uncertain and unquiet possession 
 of a croT\Ti, bestowed by hands that to con- 
 
72 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 fer the dangerous gift must have subverted a 
 monarchy. 
 
 Pandora's box contained not more evils 
 than the crown of France would inflict on him 
 on whose brow a revolution would place it. 
 From that hour let him bid adieu to peaceful 
 slumber, to domestic happiness, to well-merited 
 confidence and esteem, all of which are now 
 his own. Popularity, never a stable possession 
 in any country, is infinitely less so in France, 
 where the vivacity of perception of the people 
 leads them to discover grave faults where only 
 slight errors exist, and where a natural incon- 
 stancy, love of change, and a reckless impa- 
 tience under aught that offends them, prompt 
 them to hurl down from the pedestal the idol 
 of yesterday to replace it by the idol of to-day. 
 
 I hear so much good of the Due and 
 
 Duchesse d'O that I feel a lively interest 
 
 in them, and heartily wish they may never be 
 elevated (unless by the natural demise of the 
 legitimate heirs) to the dangerous height to 
 
PARIS. 73 
 
 which and others assert they will ulti- 
 mately ascend. Even in the contingency of 
 a legitimate inheritance of the crown, the 
 Tuilleries would offer a less peaceful couch to 
 them than they find in the blissful domestic 
 circle at N . 
 
 A Ion Of visit from the Due de T . I 
 
 never meet him without being reminded of 
 the truth of an observation of a French 
 writer, who says — ^'On a vu des gens se 
 passer d'esprit en sachant meler la poUtesse 
 avec des manidres nohles et elegantes.'" The 
 Due de T — — passes off perfectly well with- 
 out esprit, the absence of which his noble 
 
 manners perfectly conceal ; w^hile , who is 
 
 so very clever, makes one continually conscious 
 of his want of good breeding and hon ton. 
 
 Finished reading Sayings and Doings, by 
 Mr. Theodore Hook. Every page teems with 
 wit, humour, or pathos, and reveals a know- 
 ledge of the world imder all the various phases 
 of the ever-moving scene that gives a lively 
 
 yOL. II. E 
 
74 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 interest to all he writes. This profound ac- 
 quaintance with human life, which stamps the 
 impress of truth on every character portrayed 
 hy his graphic pen, has not soured his feel- 
 ings or produced that cynical disposition so 
 frequently engendered hy it. 
 
 Mr. Hook is no misanthrope, and while he 
 exposes the ridiculous with a rare wit and 
 humour he evinces a natural and warm sym- 
 pathy with the good. He is a very original 
 thinker and writer, hits off characters with a 
 facility and felicity that few authors possess, 
 and makes them invariahly act in accordance 
 with the peculiar characteristics with which 
 he has endowed them. The vraisemhlahle 
 is never for a moment violated, which makes 
 the reader imagine he is perusing a true nar- 
 ration instead of a fiction. 
 
 House-hunting to-day. Went again over 
 the Hotel Monaco ; hut its dilapidated state 
 somewhat alarms us. The suite of reception 
 rooms are magnificent, but the garden into 
 
' PARIS. 75 
 
 whicli they open pleases me still more, for it 
 is vast and umbrageous. The fine old hotels 
 in the Faubourg St. Germain, and this is 
 one of the finest, give one a good idea of the 
 splendour of the noblesse de I'rmcien regime. 
 The number and spaciousness of the apart- 
 ments, the richness of the decorations, though 
 no longer retaining their pristine beauty, and, 
 above all, the terraces and gardens, have a 
 grand effect. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 House-hunting all the day with Lord 
 
 B . Went again over the Hotel Monaco, 
 
 and abandoned the project of hiring it. Saw 
 one house newly built and freshly and beau- 
 tifully decorated, which I like, but Lord B 
 
 does not think good enough. It is in the 
 Rue de Matignon. It is so desirable to get 
 into a mansion where every thing is new and 
 in good taste, which is the case with the one 
 
 in question, that I hope Lord B will be 
 
 satisfied with this. 
 
 Sat an hour with General d'O who 
 
 has been unwell. Never was there such a 
 nurse as his wife, and so he said. Illness 
 almost loses its irksomeness when the sick 
 chamber is cheered by one who is as kind 
 
PARIS. 77 
 
 as she is clever. Madame d'O is glad 
 
 we have not taken the Hotel Monaco, for 
 she resided in it a long time when it was 
 occupied by her mother, and she thinks the 
 sleeping-rooms are confined and gloomy. 
 
 " After serious consideration and mature 
 deliberation," we have finallv decided on takino^ 
 the house in the Rue de Matio^non. It will 
 be beautiful when completed, but nevertheless 
 not to be compared to the Hotel Ney. The 
 salons de reception are very good, and the 
 decorations are rich and handsome. 
 
 The large salon is separated from the lesser 
 by an immense plate of unsilvered glass, which 
 admits of the fire-places in each room (they 
 are vis-a-vis') being seen, and has a very good 
 efifect. A door on each side this large plate 
 of glass opens into the smaller salon. The 
 portion of the house allotted to me will, when 
 completed, be like isiry land. A salon, des- 
 tined to contain my buhl cabinets, porcelaine 
 de Sevres, and rare bijouterie, opens into a 
 
78 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 library by two glass-doors, and in the pier 
 which divides them is a large mirror filling 
 up the entire space. 
 
 In the library, that opens on a terrace, 
 which is to be covered with a herceaic, and 
 converted into a garden, are two mirrors, 
 vis-d'Vis to the two glass -doors that com- 
 municate from the salon ; so that on entering 
 this last, the effect produced is exceedingly 
 pretty. Another large mirror is placed at 
 the end of the library, and reflects the terrace. 
 
 When my books and various treasures are 
 arranged in this suite I shall be very com- 
 fortably lodged. My chambre a coucher, 
 dressing-room, and boudoir, are spacious, and 
 beautifully decorated. All this sounds well 
 and looks well, too, yet we shall leave the 
 
 Rue de Bourbon with regret, and Lord B 
 
 now^ laments that we did not secure it for a 
 long term. 
 
 Drove in the Bois de Boulogne. A lovely 
 day, which produced a very exhilarating effect 
 
PARIS. 79 
 
 on my spirits. I know not whether others 
 experience the same pleasurable sensations 
 that I do on a fine day in spring, when all 
 nature is bursting into life, and the air and 
 earth look iovous. Mv feelino^s become more 
 buoyant, my step more elastic, and all that 
 I love seem dearer than before. I remember 
 that even in childhood I was peculiarly sen- 
 sible to atmospheric influence, and I find that 
 as I grow old this susceptibility does not 
 diminish. 
 
 We dined at the Rocher de Cancale yes- 
 terday ; and Counts Septeuil and Valeski 
 composed our party. The Rocher de Cancale 
 is the Greenwich of Paris ; the oysters and 
 various other kinds of fish served up con 
 gusto, attracting people to it, as the white 
 bait draw visitors to Greenwich. Our dinner 
 was excellent, and our party very agi'eeable. 
 
 A diner de restaurant is pleasant from its 
 novelty. The guests seem less ceremonious 
 and more gay ; the absence of the elegance that 
 
80 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 marks the dinner-table appointments in a 
 maison Men monte, gives a homeliness and 
 heartiness to the repast ; and even the attend- 
 ance of two or three ill-dressed garcons hurry- 
 ing about, instead of half-a-dozen sedate ser- 
 vants in rich liveries, marshalled by a solemn- 
 looking maitre d'hotel and groom of the 
 chambers, gives a zest to the dinner often 
 wanted in more luxurious feasts. 
 
 The Bois de Boulogne yesterday presented 
 one of the gayest sights imaginable as we 
 drove through it, for, being Sunday, all the 
 bourgeoisie of Paris were promenading there, 
 and in their holyday dresses. And very pretty 
 and becoming were the said dresses, from those 
 of the Je7nmes de negociants, composed of rich 
 and tasteful materials, down to those of the 
 humble grisettes, who, with jaunty air and 
 roguish eyes, walked briskly along, casting 
 glances at every smart toilette they encoun- 
 tered, more intent on examining the dresses 
 than the wearers. 
 
PARIS. 81 
 
 A good taste in dress seems innate in 
 Frenchwomen of every class, and a confidence 
 in their own attractions precludes the air of 
 mauvaise Jionte and gaucherie so continually 
 observable in the women of other countries, 
 while it is so distinct from boldness that it 
 never offends. It was pretty to see the gay 
 dresses of varied colours fluttering beneath 
 the delicate green foliage, like rich flow^ers 
 agitated by a more than usually brisk summer's 
 wind, while the foliage and the dresses are 
 still in their pristine purity. 
 
 The heau monde occupied the drive in the 
 centre, their vehicles of every description 
 attracting the admiration of the pedestrians, 
 who glanced from the well-appointed car- 
 riages, whose owners reclined negligently back 
 as if unwilhng to be seen, to the smart young 
 equestrians on prancing steeds, who caracoled 
 past with the air half dandy and half militaire 
 that characterises every young Frenchman. 
 I am always struck in a crowd in Paris 
 
 E 2 
 
1 
 
 82 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 with the soldierlike air of its male population ; 
 and this air does not seem to be the result 
 of study, but sits as naturally on them as does 
 the look, half fierce, half mocking, that accom- 
 panies it. There is something in the nature 
 of a Frenchman that enables him to become 
 a soldier in less time than is usually necessary 
 to render the natives of other countries ciufait 
 in the routine of duty, just as he learns to 
 dance well in a quarter of the time required 
 to teach them to go through a simple measure. 
 The Emperor Napoleon quickly observed 
 this peculiar predisposition to a military life 
 in his subjects, and took advantage of it to 
 fool them to the top of their bent. The 
 victories achieved beneath his banner reflect 
 scarcely less honour on them than on him, 
 and the memory of them associates his name 
 in their hearts by the strongest bonds of sym- 
 pathy that can bind a Frenchman — the love 
 of glory. A sense of duty, high discipline, 
 and true courage, influence our soldiers in 
 
PARIS. 83 
 
 the discharge of their calling. They are 
 proud of their country and of their regiment, 
 for the honour of which they are ready to 
 fight unto the death ; but a Frenchman, 
 though proud of his country and his regiment, 
 is still more proud of his individual self, and, 
 believing that all eyes are upon him, acts 
 as if his single arm could accomplish that 
 which only soldiers en masse can achieve. 
 
 A pleasant party at dinner at home yester- 
 day. The Marquis de Mornay, Count Va- 
 leski, and General Ornano, were among the 
 number. Laughed immoderately at the naivete 
 of , who is irresistibly ludicrous. 
 
 Madame came in the evening and 
 
 o 
 
 sang " God save the King." Time was that 
 her sinmncT this national anthem would have 
 
 electrified the hearers, but now . Alas ! 
 
 alas ! that voices, like faces, should lose their 
 delicate flexibility and freshness, and seem but 
 like the faint echo of their former brilliant 
 tones ! 
 
84 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Does the ear of a singer, like the eye 
 of some has-been beauty, lose its fine per- 
 ception and become accustomed to the change 
 in the voice, as does the eye to that in 
 the face, to which it appertains, from being 
 daily in the habit of seeing the said face? 
 Merciful dispensation of Providence, which 
 thus saves us from the horror and dismay we 
 must experience could we but behold ourselves 
 as others see us, after a lapse of years without 
 having met ; while we, unconscious of the sad 
 change in ourselves, are perfectly sensible of 
 it in them. Oh, the misery of the mezzo ter- 
 onini in the journey of life, when time robs the 
 eyes of their lustre, the cheeks of their roses, 
 the mouth of its pearls, and the heart of its 
 gaiety, and writes harsh sentences on brows 
 once smooth and polished as marble ! 
 
 Well a- day ! ah, well a- day ! 
 Why fleets youth so fast away, 
 Taking beauty in its train, 
 Never to return again ? 
 
PARIS. 85 
 
 Well a-day I ah, well a-day ! 
 "Why will health no longer stay ? 
 After youth 't will not remain, 
 Chased away by care and pain. 
 
 Well a-day ! ah, well a-day I 
 Youth, health, beauty, gone for aye, 
 Life itself must quickly wane 
 With its thoughts and wishes vain. 
 
 Well a-day ! ah, well a-day ! 
 Frail and perishable clay 
 That to earth our wishes chain. 
 Well it is that brief's thy reign. 
 
 I have been reading Captain Marryat's 
 Naval Officer, and think it exceedingly clever 
 and amusing. It is like himself, full of talent, 
 originality, and humour. He is an accurate 
 observer of life ; nothing escapes him ; vet 
 there is no bitterness in his satire and no 
 exaggeration in his comic vein. He is never 
 obhged to explain to his readers ivhy the 
 characters he introduces act in such or such 
 
86 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 a manner. They always bear out the parts 
 he wishes them to enact, and the whole story 
 goes on so naturally that one feels as if reading 
 a narrative of facts, instead of a work of fiction. 
 
 I have known Captain Marry at many years, 
 and liked him from the first ; hut this cir- 
 cumstance, far from rendering me more indul- 
 gent to his novel, makes me more fastidious ; 
 for I find myself at all times more disposed to 
 criticise the writings of persons whom I know 
 and like than those of strangers : perhaps be- 
 cause I expect more from them, if, as in the 
 present case, I know them to be very clever. 
 
 Dined yesterday at the Cadran Bleu, and 
 went in the evening to see Latour d^Auvergne^ 
 a piece founded on the life, and taking its name 
 from a soldier of the time of the Republic. 
 A nobler character than that of Latour d'Au- 
 vergne could not be selected for a dramatic 
 hero, and ancient times furnish posterity with 
 no brighter example. A letter from Carnot, 
 then Minister of War, addressed to this dis- 
 
PARIS. # 87 
 
 tinguished soldier and admirable man, has 
 pleased me so much that I give its substance : 
 *' On fixinof mv attention on the men who 
 reflect honour on the army, I have remarked 
 you, citizen, and I said to the First Consul — 
 ' Latour d* Auvergne Corret, descendant of 
 the famil)' of Turenne, has inherited its bravery 
 and its virtues. One of the oldest officers in 
 the army, he counts the greatest number of 
 brilliant actions, and all the brave name him 
 to be the most brave. As modest as he is 
 intrepid, he has shewn himself anxious for 
 glory alone, and has refused all the grades 
 offered to him. At the eastern Pvrenees 
 the General assembled all the companies of the 
 grenadiers, and during the remainder of the 
 campaign gave them no chief. The oldest 
 captain was to command them, and he was 
 Latour d'Auvergne. He obeyed, and the 
 corps was soon named by the enemy the 
 Infernal Column. 
 
88 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 " *One of his friends had an only son, whose 
 labour was necessary for the support of his 
 father, and this young man was included in 
 the conscription. Latour d'Auvergne, broken 
 down by fatigue, could not labour, but he could 
 still fight. He hastened to the army of the 
 Rhine ; replaced the son of his friend ; and, 
 during two campaigns, with his knapsack on 
 his back and always in the foremost rank, he 
 was in every engagement, animating the gre- 
 nadiers by his discourse and by his example. 
 Poor, but proud, he has refused the gift of 
 an estate offered to him by the head of his 
 family. Simple in his manners, and tem- 
 perate in his habits, he lives on the limited 
 pay of a captain. Highly informed, and 
 speaking several languages, his erudition 
 equals his courage. We are indebted to his 
 pen for the interesting work entitled Les 
 Origines Gauloises, Such rare talents and 
 virtues appertain to the page of history, but 
 
PARIS. 89 
 
 to the First Consul belongs the right to anti- 
 cipate its award.' 
 
 " The First Consul, citizen, heard this 
 recital with the same emotions that I expe- 
 rienced. He named you instantly first gre- 
 nadier of the Republic, and decreed you this 
 sword of honour. Salut et fraiernitL^^ 
 
 The distinction accorded so readily to Latour 
 d'Auverome bv the First Consul, himself a 
 hero, who could better than any other con- 
 temporary among his countrymen appreciate 
 the glory he was called on by Carnot to reward, 
 was refused by the gallant veteran. 
 
 ** Among us soldiers," said he, '* there is 
 neither first nor last." He demanded, as the 
 sole recompense of his services, to be sent to 
 join his old brothers-in-arms, to fight once 
 more Tvdth them, not as the first, but as the 
 oldest, soldier of the Republic. 
 
 His death was like his life, glorious ; for 
 he fell on the field of battle at Neubourg, 
 in 1800, mourned bv the whole armv, who 
 
90 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 devoted a day's pay to the purchase of an 
 urn to preserve his heart, for a niche in the 
 Pantheon. 
 
 Another distinction, not less touching, was 
 accorded to his memory by the regiment in 
 which he served. The sergeant, in calling 
 the names in the muster of his company, 
 always called Latour d'Auvergne, and the 
 corporal answered — " Mort au champ d^hon- 
 neury If the history of this hero excited 
 the warm admiration of those opposed to him 
 in arms, the effect of its representation on 
 his compatriots may be more easily imagined 
 than described. Nothing could exceed the 
 enthusiasm it excited in their minds. Men, 
 women, and children, seemed electrified by it. 
 
 There is a chord in the hearts of the French 
 that responds instantaneously, and with vivid 
 emotion, to any appeal made to their national 
 glory ; and this susceptibility constitutes the 
 germ so easily fructified by those who know 
 how to cultivate it. 
 
PARIS. 91 
 
 Enthusiasm, if it sometimes leads to error, 
 or commits its votaries into the ridiculous, 
 also prompts and accomplishes the most glo- 
 rious achievements ; and it is impossible not 
 to feel a s}Tiipathy with its unsophisticated 
 demonstrations thus evinced en masse. Civi- 
 lization, more than aught else, tends to dis- 
 courage enthusiasm ; and where it is pushed 
 to the utmost degree of perfection, there will 
 this prompter of great deeds, this darer of 
 impossibilities and instigator of heroic actions, 
 be most rarely found. 
 
 Drove yesterday to see the villa of the Du- 
 chesse de Montmorency, which is to be let. 
 The grounds are very pretty, and a portion 
 of them opens by iron rails to the Bois de 
 Boulogne, which is a great advantage. But 
 neither the villa nor the grounds are to be 
 compared to the beautiful ones in the neigh- 
 bourhood of London, where, as an old French 
 gentleman once observed to me, " the trees 
 
92 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 seem to take a peculiar pride and pleasure in 
 growing." 
 
 I have seen nothing to be compared with 
 the tasteful villas on green velvet lawns 
 sloping down to the limpid Thames, near 
 Richmond, with umbrageous trees bending 
 their leafy branches to the earth and water ; 
 or to the colonnaded mansions peeping forth 
 from the well-wooded grounds of Roehampton 
 and its vicinage. 
 
 I can remember as distinctly as if beheld 
 yesterday, the various tempting residences that 
 meet the eye in a morning drive, or in a row 
 on the silvery Thames, compelling the vio- 
 lation of the tenth commandment, by looking 
 so beautiful that one imagines how happily a 
 life might glide away in such abodes, forgetful 
 that in no earthly abode can existence be passed 
 free from the cares meant to remind us that 
 this is not our abiding-place. 
 
 Went to see Bagatelle yesterday with the 
 
PARIS. 93 
 
 Duchesse de G . Here the Due de Bor- 
 deaux and Mademoiselle, his sister, pass much 
 of their time. It is a very pleasant villa, and 
 contains many proofs of the taste and industry 
 of these verv interestino^ children, who are 
 oTeatlv beloved bv those who have access to 
 them. Various stories were related- to us illus- 
 trative of their goodness of heart and con- 
 siderate kindness for those around them ; and, 
 making all due allowance for the partiality of 
 the narrators, they went far to prove that 
 these scions of royalty are more amiable and 
 unspoilt than are most children of their age, 
 and of even far less elevated rank. " Born 
 in sorrow, and nursed in tears," the Due de 
 Bordeaux's early infancy has not passed un- 
 der bright auspices ; and those are not wanting 
 who prophesy that he may hereafter look back 
 to the days passed at Bagatelle as the happiest 
 of his life. 
 
 It requires little of the prescience of a 
 soothsaver to make this prediction, when we 
 
94r THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 reflect that the lives of even the most popular 
 of those born to the dangerous inheritance of 
 a crown must ever be more exposed to the 
 cares that weigh so heavily, and the respon- 
 sibility that presses so continually on them, 
 than are those who, exempt from the splendour 
 of sovereignty, escape also its toils. ** Oh 
 happy they, the happiest of their kind," who 
 enjoy, in the peace and repose of a private 
 station, a competency, good health, a love of, 
 and power of indulging in, study ; an unre- 
 proaching conscience, and a cheerful mind ! 
 With such blessings they may contemplate, 
 without a feeling of envy, the more brilliant 
 but less fortunate lots of those great ones of 
 the earth, whose elevation but too often serves 
 to render them the target at which Fortune 
 loves to aim her most envenomed darts. 
 
 Passed the greater part of the morning in 
 the house in the Rue de Matignon, super- 
 intending the alterations and improvements to 
 be carried into execution there. It has been 
 
PARIS. 95 
 
 found necessary to build an additional room, 
 which the proprietor pledges himself can be 
 ready for occupation in six weeks, and already 
 has its walls reached nearly to their intended 
 heidit. The builders seem to be as expe- 
 ditious as the upholsterers at Paris, and add- 
 ing a room or two to a mansion appears to be 
 as easily accomplished as adding some extra 
 furniture. 
 
 One is made to pay dearly, however, for 
 this facility and expedition; for rents are ex- 
 travao^antlv hioh at Paris, as are also the 
 prices of furniture. 
 
 Already does the terrace begin to assume 
 the appearance of a garden. Deep beds of 
 earth inclosed in green cases line the sides, 
 and an abundance of orange-trees, flowering 
 shrubs, plants, and flowers, are placed in them. 
 
 At the end of the terrace, the wall which 
 bounds it has been painted in fresco, with a 
 view of Italian scenery; and this wall forms 
 the back of an aviarv, with a fountain that 
 
96 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 plays in the centre. A smaller avmry, con- 
 structed of glass, is erected on the end of the 
 terrace, close to my library, from the window 
 of which I can feed my favourite birds; and 
 this aviary, as well as the library, is warmed 
 by means of a stove beneath the latter. The 
 terrace is covered by a lattice-work, formed 
 into arched windows at the side next the court : 
 over the sides and roof there are trailing para- 
 sitical plants. Nothing in the new residence 
 pleases me so much as this suite, and the 
 terrace attached to it. 
 
 Already do we begin to feel the unsettled 
 state peculiar to an intended change of abode, 
 and the prospect of entering a new one dis- 
 turbs the sense of enjoyment of the old. 
 Gladly would we remain where we are, for we 
 prefer this hotel to any other at Paris ; but the 
 days we have to sojourn in it are numbered, 
 and our regret is unavailing. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 September 1829. — A chasm of many months 
 in my journal. When last I closed it, little 
 could I have foreseen the terrible blow that 
 awaited me. Well may I exclaim with the 
 French writer whose works I have been just 
 reading, ** Nous, qui sommes homes en tout, 
 comment le sommes nous si peu quand il s^agit 
 de souffrir,'*^ How slowly has time passed 
 since ! Every hour counted, and each coloured 
 by care ; the past turned to Yd\h the vain 
 hope of forgetting the present, and the future 
 no longer offering the bright prospect it once 
 unfolded ! 
 
 How is my destiny changed since I last 
 opened this book! My hopes have faded and 
 vanished like the leaves whose opening into life 
 
 VOL. II. F 
 
98 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 I hailed with joy six months ago, little dream- 
 ing that before the first cold breath of autumn 
 had tinted them with brown, he w^ho saw 
 them expand with me would have passed 
 from the earth ! 
 
 October, — 111, and confined to my chamber 
 for several days. My physician prescribes 
 society to relieve low spirits ; but in the 
 present state of mine, the remedy seems worse 
 than the disease. 
 
 Mv old fi'iends Mr. and Mrs. Mathews, and 
 their clever son, have arrived at Paris and dined 
 here yesterday. Mr. Mathews is as entertaining 
 as ever, and his wife as amiable and spiritueUe, 
 They are excellent as well as clever people, 
 and their society is very agreeable. Charles 
 Mathews, the son, is full of talent, possesses 
 all his father*s powers of imitation, and sings 
 comic songs of his own composition that 
 James Smith himself might be proud to 
 have written. 
 
 The Due and Duchesse de Guiche, the 
 
PARIS. 99 
 
 ^larquise de Poulpry, Lady Combermere, 
 Madame Craufurd, and Count Valeski, came 
 in the evening, and were all highly gratified 
 with some recitations and songs given us by 
 Mr. Mathews and his son. They were not 
 less pleased with Mrs. Mathews, whose 
 manners and conversation are peculiarly fasci- 
 nating, and whose good looks and youthfulness 
 of appearance made them almost disbelieve that 
 she could be the mother of a gro\^Tl-up son. 
 How" forcibly did the recitations and songs 
 brino; back former times to mv memoiw, when 
 in St. James's Square, or in his own beautiful 
 cottage at Highgate, I have so frequently 
 been delighted by the performances of this 
 clever and worthy man! The recollection of 
 the past occupied me more last night than 
 did the actual present, and caused me to 
 return but a faint echo to the reiterated 
 applause which every new effort of his drew 
 forth from the party. There are moments 
 when the present appears like a dream, and 
 
100 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 that we think the past, which is gone for 
 ever, had more^ of reaUty in it ! 
 
 I took Mr. and Mrs. Mathews to the Jardin 
 des Plantes to-day, and was much amused by an 
 incident that occurred there. A pretty child, 
 with her honney were seated on a bench near to 
 which we placed ourselves. She was asking 
 questions relative to the animals she had seen, 
 and Mr. Mathews having turned his head away 
 from her, gave some admirable imitations of 
 the sounds peculiar to the beasts of which 
 she was speaking, and also of the voice and 
 speeches of the person who had exhibited them. 
 
 Never did he exert himself more to please 
 a crowded and admiring audience than to 
 amuse this child, who, maintaining an im- 
 movable gravity during the imitations, quietly 
 observed to her nurse, '^ Ma bonne, ce Mon- 
 sieur est hien droler 
 
 The mortification of Mr. Mathews on this 
 occasion was very diverting. " How ! " ex- 
 claimed he, "is it possible that all my efforts 
 
PARIS. 101 
 
 to amuse that child have so wholly failed? 
 She never moved a muscle! I suppose the 
 French children are not so easily pleased as 
 our Eno^lish men and women are ? " 
 
 He reverted to this disappointment more 
 than once during our drive back, and seemed 
 dispirited by it. Nevertheless, he gave us 
 some most humorous imitations of the lower 
 orders of the French talkino- loudlv too^ether, 
 in which he spoke in so many diiferent 
 voices that one could have imagined that no 
 less than half-a-dozen people, at least, were 
 eno^aDred in the conversation. 
 
 I think so highly of the intellectual powers 
 of Mr. Mathews, and find his conversation 
 so interesting that, admirable as are his imi- 
 tations, I prefer the former. He has seen so 
 much of the world in all its phases, that he 
 has a piquant anecdote or a clever story to 
 relate touching every place and almost every 
 person mentioned. Yet, with all this intuitive 
 and acquired knowledge of the world, he pos- 
 
10^ • THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 sesses all the simplicity of a child, and a good 
 nature that never can resist an appeal to it. 
 
 Spent all yesterday in reading, and writing 
 letters on husiness. I begin to experience the 
 ennui of having affairs to attend to, and groan 
 in spirit, if not aloud, at having to read and 
 write dry details on the subject. To unbend 
 my mind from its painful thoughts and ten- 
 sion, I devoted the evening to reading, 
 which affords me the surest relief, by trans- 
 porting my thoughts from the cares that 
 oppress me. 
 
 Had a long visit from my old acquaintance 
 the Count de Montalembert, to-day. He is 
 in very low spirits, occasioned by the recent 
 death of an only and charming daughter, 
 and could not restrain his deep emotion, 
 when recounting to me the particulars of 
 her latter days. His grief was contagious, 
 and found a chord in my heart that responded 
 to it. When we last met, it was in a gay 
 and brilliant party, each of, us in high 
 
PARIS. 103 
 
 spirits ; and now, though hut a few more 
 years have passed over our heads, how changed 
 are our feelings ! We meet, not to amuse and 
 to be amused, but to talk of those we have lost, 
 and whose loss has darkened our lives. He 
 spoke of his son, w^ho already gives the promise 
 of distinofuishino- himself, and of reflectinof 
 credit on his family. 
 
 How little do we know people whom we 
 meet only in general society, in which every 
 one assumes a similar tone and manner, re- 
 serving for home the peculiarities that dis- 
 tinguish each from the other, and suppressing 
 all demonstration of the feelinos indulofed 
 only in the privacy of the domestic circle ! 
 
 I have been many years acquainted with 
 the Count de Montalembert, yet never really 
 appreciated him until to-day. Had I been 
 asked to describe him yesterday, I should 
 have spoken of him as a spiritueU lively, and 
 amusing man, with remarkably good manners, 
 a great knowledge of the world, and posses- 
 sing in an eminent degree the tact and talent 
 
104 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 de societe. Had any one mentioned that he 
 was a man of deep feeling, I should have been 
 disposed to question the discernment of the 
 person who asserted it ; yet now I am as 
 perfectly convinced of the fact as it is possible 
 to be, and had he paid this visit, before afflic- 
 tion had assailed me, he would not, I am con- 
 vinced, have revealed his own grief. Yes, 
 affliction is like the divinatory wand, whose 
 touch discovers deep-buried springs the exist- 
 ence of which was previously unknown. 
 
 called on me to-day, and talked a 
 
 good deal of . I endeavoured to excite 
 
 sympathy for the unhappy person, but failed 
 in the ^ attempt. The unfortunate generally 
 meet with more blame than pity ; for as the 
 latter is a painful emotion, people endeavour to 
 exonerate themselves from its indulgence, by 
 trying to discover some error which may have 
 led to the misfortune they are too selfish to 
 commiserate. Alas ! there are but few friends 
 
 who, like ivy, cling to ruin, and is not 
 
 one of these. 
 
PARIS. 105 
 
 The Prince and Princesse Soutzo dined 
 with us yesterday. They are as amiable and 
 aoreeable as ever, and I felt o-reat ffratifica- 
 tion in meetino^ them aoain. We talked over 
 the many pleasant days we passed together at 
 Pisa. Alas ! how changed is my domestic 
 circle since then ! They missed one who 
 would have joined me in welcoming them to 
 Paris, and whose unvaried kindness they have 
 not forgotten ! 
 
 The " decent dignity," with which this 
 interesting couple support their altered for- 
 tunes, won my esteem on our first acquaint- 
 ance. Prince Soutzo was Hospodar, or reign- 
 ing Prince of Moldavia, and married the eldest 
 daughter of Prince Carraga, Hospodar of Val- 
 lachia. He maintained the state attendant on 
 his high rank, beloved and respected bv those 
 he governed, until the patriotic sentiments 
 inseparable from a great mind induced him 
 to sacrifice rank, fortune, and power, to the 
 cause of Greece, his native land. He only 
 saved his life by flight, for the angTy Sultan, 
 
 f2 
 
106 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 with whom he had previously been a great 
 favourite, had ah'eady sent an order for his 
 decapitation ! Never was a reverse of fortune 
 borne with greater equanimity than by this 
 charming family, whose virtues, endowments, 
 and acquirements, fit them for the most ele- 
 vated station. 
 
 My old acquaintances, Mr. Rogers the 
 poet, and Mr. Luttrell, called on me to-day. 
 Of how many pleasant days in St. James's 
 Square did the sight of both remind me ! 
 Such days I shall pass there no more : but I 
 must not give way to reflections that are, 
 alas ! as unavailing as they are painful. Both 
 of these my old friends are unchanged. 
 Time has dealt gently by them during the 
 seven years that have elapsed since we last 
 met : the restless tyrant has been less mer- 
 ciful to me. We may, however, bear with 
 equanimity the ravages of Time, if we meet 
 the destroyer side by side with those dear 
 to us, those who have witnessed our youth 
 and maturity, and who have advanced with 
 
PARIS. 107 
 
 US into the autumn of life ; but, when they 
 are lost to us, how dreary becomes the 
 prospect ! 
 
 How difficult it is to prevent the mind 
 from dwellino' on thoui^hts frauo-ht with sad- 
 ness, when once the chord of memory vibrates 
 to the touch of grief! 
 
 i\Ir. Roofers talked of Bvron, and evinced a 
 deep feeling of regard for his memory. He 
 little knows the manner in which he is treated 
 in a certain poem, written by him in one 
 of his angry moods, and which I urged him, 
 but in vain, to commit to the flames. The 
 knowledge of it, however, would, I am con- 
 vinced, excite no wrath in the heart of Rogers, 
 who would feel more sorrow than anger that 
 one he believed his friend could have written 
 so bitter a diatribe against him. And, truth 
 to say, the poem in question is more injurious 
 to the memorv of Byron than it could be 
 painful to him who is the subject of it; but I 
 hope that it may never be published, and I 
 
108 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 think no one who had delicacy or feeling- 
 would bring it to light. 
 
 Byron read this lampoon to us one day at 
 Genoa, and enjoyed our dismay at it like a 
 froward boy who has achieved what he con- 
 siders some mischievous prank. He offered 
 us a copy, but we declined to accept it ; for, 
 being in the habit of seeing Mr. Rogers fre- 
 quently beneath our roof, we thought it would 
 be treacherous to him. Byron, however, found 
 others less scrupulous, and three or four 
 copies of it have been given away. 
 
 The love of mischief was strong in the 
 heart of Byron even to the last, but, while 
 recklessly indulging it in trifles, he was capa- 
 ble of giving proofs of exaited friendship to 
 those against whom he practised it ; and, had 
 Rogers stood in need of kindness,' he would 
 have found no lack of it in his brother poet, 
 even in the very hour he had penned the 
 malicious lampoon in question against him. 
 
 Comte d'Orsay, with his frank naivete, oh- 
 
PARIS. 109 
 
 served, " I thought you were one of Mr. 
 
 Rogers's most intimate friends, and so all the 
 
 world had reason to think, after readin^: your 
 
 dedication of the Giaour to him." 
 
 " Yes," answered Byron, laughing, " and it 
 
 is our friendship that gives me the privilege 
 
 of takino' a libertv with him." 
 
 ''If it is thus you evince your friendship," 
 replied Comte d'Orsay, " I should be disposed 
 to prefer your enmity." 
 
 "You," said Byron, "could never excite this 
 last sentiment in my breast, for you neither 
 say nor do spiteful things." 
 
 Brief as was the period Byron had lived 
 in what is termed fashionable society in 
 London, it was lono^ enouo^h to have eno-en- 
 dered in him a habit of persiflage, and a 
 love of uttering sarcasms, (more from a desire 
 of displaying vAi than from malice,) peculiar 
 to that circle in which, if every man's hand 
 is not ao^ainst his associates, everv man's 
 tono'ue is. He drew no line of demarcation 
 between uttering and writing satirical things ; 
 
110 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and the first being, if not sanctioned, at least 
 permitted in the society in which he had lived 
 in London, he considered himself not more 
 culpable in inditing his satires than the 
 others were in speaking them. He would 
 have laughed at being censured for putting 
 on paper the epigrammatic malice that his 
 former associates would delight in uttering 
 before all except the person at whom it was 
 aimed ; yet the world see the matter in 
 another point of view, and many of those 
 who speak as much evil of their soi-disant 
 friends, would declare, if not feel, themselves 
 shocked at Byron's writing it. 
 
 I know no more agreeable member of 
 society than Mr. Luttrell. His conversa- 
 tion, like a limpid stream, flows smoothly 
 and brightly along, revealing the depths be- 
 neath its current, now sparkling over the 
 objects it discloses or reflecting those by which 
 it glides. He never talks for talking's sake ; 
 but his mind is so well filled that, like a 
 fountain which when stirred sends up from 
 
PARIS. Ill 
 
 its bosom sparkling showers, his mind, when 
 excited, sends forth thouohts no less brio'ht 
 than profound, revealing the treasures with 
 which it is so richly stored. The conversa- 
 tion of ]\Ir. Luttrell makes me think, while 
 that of many others only amuses me. 
 
 Lord John Russell has arrived at Paris, 
 and sat with me a considerable time to-day. 
 How verv acrreeable he can be when his re- 
 serve wears off, and what a pity it is he should 
 ever allow it to veil the many fine quahties 
 he possesses! Few men have a finer taste 
 in literature, or a more hiohly cultivated 
 mind. It seizes with rapidity whatever is 
 brouo'ht before ic ; and being- whollv free from 
 passion or egotism, the views he takes on all 
 subjects are just and unprejudiced. He has 
 a quick perception of the ridiculous, and pos- 
 sesses a fund of drv caustic humour that mio^ht 
 render him a very dangerous opponent in a 
 debate, were it not governed by a good breed- 
 ing and a calmness that never forsake him. 
 
 Lord John Russell is precisely the person 
 
112 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 calculated to fill a high official situation. Well 
 informed on all subjects, with an ardent love 
 of his country, and an anxious desire to serve 
 it, he has a sobriety of judgment and a strict- 
 ness of principle that will for ever place him 
 beyond the reach of suspicion, even to the 
 most prejudiced of his political adversaries. 
 The reserve complained of by those who 
 are only superficially acquainted with him, 
 would be highly advantageous to a minister; 
 for it would not only preserve him from the 
 approaches to familiarity, so injurious to men in 
 power, but would discourage the hopes founded 
 on the facility of manner of those whose very 
 smiles and simple acts of politeness are by 
 the many looked on as an encouragement 
 to form the most unreasonable ones, and as 
 an excuse for the indulgence of angry feelings 
 when those unreasonable hopes are frustrated. 
 Lord John Russell, Mr. Rogers, Mr. 
 Luttrell, Monsieur Thiers, Monsieur Mignet, 
 and Mr. Poulett Thomson, dined here yester- 
 day. The party was an agreeable one, and 
 
PARIS. 113 
 
 tlie guests seemed mutually pleased with each 
 other. 
 
 Monsieur Thiers is a very remarkable 
 person — quick, animated, and observant ; 
 nothing escapes him, and his remarks are 
 indicative of a mind of great power. I enjoy 
 listening to his conversation, which is at once 
 full of originality, yet free from the slightest 
 shade of eccentricity. 
 
 Monsieur Mignet, who is the inseparable 
 fi'iend of Monsieur Thiers, reminds me every 
 time I see him of Byron, for there is a strik- 
 ing likeness in the countenance. With great 
 abilities. Monsieur Mignet gives me the 
 notion of being more fitted to a life of philo- 
 sophical research and contemplation than of 
 action, while Monsieur Thiers impresses me 
 with the conviction of his being formed to 
 fill a busy and conspicuous part in the drama 
 of life. 
 
 He is a sort of modem Prometheus, capa- 
 ble of creating: and of vivifvino- with the elec- 
 
114 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 trie spark of mind ; but, whether he would 
 steal the fire from Heaven, or a less elevated 
 region, I am not prepared to say. He has 
 called into life a body — and a vast one — by 
 his vigorous writings, and has infused into 
 it a spirit that will not be soon or easily 
 quelled. Whether that spirit will tend to the 
 advancement of his country or not, time will 
 prove ; but, en attendant^ its ebullitions may 
 occasion as much trouble to the powers that 
 he as did the spirit engendered by Mirabeau 
 in a former reign. 
 
 The countenance of Monsieur Thiers is 
 remarkable. The eyes, even through his 
 spectacles, flash ^\dth intelligence, and the 
 expression of his face varies with every senti- 
 ment he utters. Thiers is a man to effect 
 a revolution, and Mignet would be the his- 
 torian to narrate it. 
 
 There is something very interesting in the 
 unbroken friendship of these two men of 
 genius, and its constancy elevates both in 
 
PARIS. 115 
 
 my estimation. Thev arc not more unlike 
 than are their respective works, both of which, 
 though so dissimilar, are admirable in their 
 way. The mobility and extreme excitabi- 
 lity of the French, render such men as Mon- 
 sieur Thiers extremely dano;erous to monar- 
 chical power. His genius, his eloquence, and 
 his boldness, furnish him with the means of 
 excitino^ the enthusiasm of his countrymen, as 
 surely as a torch applied to gunpowder produces 
 an explosion. In England these qualities, 
 howeyer eleyated, would fail to produce similar 
 results ; for enthusiasm is there little kno^^Ti, 
 and, when it comes forth, satisfies itself with 
 a brief manifestation, and swiftly resigns itself 
 to the prudent jurisdiction of reason. Napo- 
 leon himself, with all the glory associated 
 with his name — a glory that intoxicated the 
 French — would haye failed to inebriate the 
 sober-minded English. 
 
 Through my acquaintance with the Baron 
 Cailleux, who is at the head of the Musee, I 
 obtained permission to take Lord John Russell, 
 
116 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Mr. Rogers, and Mr. Luttrell, to the gal- 
 leries of the Louvre yesterday, it being a day 
 on which the public are excluded. The Baron 
 received us, did the honours of the Musee with 
 all the intelligence and urbanity that dis- 
 tinguish him, and made as favourable an im- 
 pression on my countrymen as they seemed 
 to have produced on him. 
 
 Rogers has a pure taste in the fine arts, 
 and has cultivated it con amove; Luttrell 
 brings to the study a practised eye and a 
 matured judgment; but Lord John, nurtured 
 from infancy in dwellings, the walls of which 
 glow with the chefs d'wuvre of the old masters 
 and the best works of the modern ones, pos- 
 sesses an exquisite tact in recognizing at a 
 glance the finest points in a picture, and 
 reasons on them with all the savoir of a 
 connoisseur and the feeling of an amateur. 
 
 It is a pleasant thing to view collections 
 of art with those fully capable of appreciating 
 them, and I enjoyed this satisfaction yester- 
 day. The Baron Cailleux evinced no little 
 
PARIS. 117 
 
 pleasure in conducting my companions from 
 one masterpiece to another, and two or three 
 hours passed away rapidly in the interesting 
 study. 
 
 The Marquis and Marquise de B , 
 
 Comte V , and some others, dined here 
 
 yesterday. The Marquise de B is very 
 
 clever, has agreeable manners, knows the 
 world thoroughly, and neither under nor over- 
 values it. A constant friction wath society, 
 while it smoothes down asperities and polishes 
 manners, is apt to impair if not destroy much 
 of the originality and raciness peculiar to 
 clever people. To suit themselves to the 
 ordinary level of society, they become either 
 insipid or satirical ; they mix too much 
 w^ater, or apply cayenne pepper to the T\dne 
 of their conversation : hence that mind which, 
 apart from the artificial atmosphere of the 
 busy world, might have grown into strength 
 and beauty, becomes like some poor child 
 nurtured in the unhealthy precincts of a 
 dense and crowded city, — diseased, stunted. 
 
118 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 rickety, and incapable of distinguishing itself 
 from its fellows. 
 
 As clever people cannot elevate the mass 
 with which they herd to their own level, they 
 are apt to sink to theirs; and persons with 
 talents that might have served for nobler 
 purposes are suffered to degenerate into 
 diseurs de hon mots and raconteurs de 
 societe, content with the paltry distinction of 
 being" considered amusino^. How many such 
 have I encountered, satisfied with being 
 pigmies, who might have grown to be giants, 
 but who were consoled by the reflection that 
 in that world in which their sole aim is to 
 shine, pigmies are more tolerated than giants, 
 as people prefer looking down to looking up ! 
 
 Lord Allen and Sir Andrew Barnard 
 dined here yesterday. They appear to enter 
 into the gaiety of Paris with great zest, go 
 the round of the theatres, dine at all the 
 celebrated restaurateurs, mix enough in the 
 beau monde to be enabled to observe the 
 difference between the Parisian and London 
 
PARIS. 119 
 
 one, and will, at the expiration of the terui 
 assigned to l:heir sejour here, return to Eng- 
 land well satisfied with their trip and with 
 themselves. 
 
 Lord A has tasted all the nonveaux 
 
 plafs a la mode, for at Paris new dishes are as 
 frequently invented as new bonnets or caps ; 
 and the proficiency in the culinary art which 
 h^ has acquired will render him an oracle 
 at his clubs, until the more recent arrival of 
 some other epicurean from the French capital 
 deposes his brief sovereignty. 
 
 But it is not in the culinary art alone that 
 Lord Allen evinces his good taste, for no one 
 is a better judge of all that constitutes the 
 agremens of life, or more au fait of the mode 
 of contributing- to them. 
 
 Sir A. B , as devoted as ever to music, 
 
 has heard all the new, and finds that the old, 
 like old friends, lose nothing by comparison. 
 It is pleasant to see that the advance of years 
 impairs not the taste for a refined and inno- 
 cent pleasure. 
 
CHAPTER VL 
 
 Mr. Rogers and Mr. Luttrell spent last 
 eveninof here. The mmds of both teem with 
 reflection, and their conversation is a high 
 intellectual treat to me. There is a repose in 
 the society of clever and refined Englishmen 
 to be met with in no other : the absence 
 of all attempts to shine, or at least of the 
 evidence of such attempts ; the mildness of 
 the manners ; the low voices, the freedom 
 from any flattery, except the most delicate 
 and acceptable . of all to a fastidious person, 
 namely, that implied by the subjects of con- 
 versation chosen, and the interest vielded to 
 them; — yes, these peculiarities have a great 
 charm for me, and Mr. Rogers and Mr. 
 Luttrell possess them in an eminent degree. 
 
PARIS. 121 
 
 The mercurial temperaments of the French 
 preclude them from this calmness of manner 
 and mildness of speech. IVIore obsequiously 
 polite and attentive to women, the exuberance 
 of their animal spirits often hurries them into 
 a gaiety evinced by brilliant sallies and clever 
 observations. They shine, but they let the 
 desire to do so be too evident to admit of 
 that quietude that forms one of the most 
 agreeable, as well as distinguishing, attributes 
 of the conversation of a refined and highly- 
 intellectual Englishman. 
 
 and spent last evening here. 
 
 Two more opposite characters could not easily 
 have encountered. One influenced wholly 
 by his feelings, the other by his reason, 
 each seemed to form a low estimate of the 
 other; and this, malgre all the restraint im- 
 posed by good breeding, was but too visible. 
 Neither has any cause to be vain, for he 
 becomes a dupe who judges with his heart 
 instead of his head, and an egoist who permits 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
12^2 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 not his heart to be touched by the toleration 
 of his head. is often duped, but some- 
 times liked for his good nature ; while , if 
 
 never duped, is never liked. 
 
 I took Lord John Russell, Mr. Rogers, 
 and Mr. Luttrell yesterday to La Muette, to 
 see M. Erard's fine collection of pictures, 
 with which they were very much pleased. 
 Our drive to the Bois de Boulogne w^as a very 
 agreeable one, and was rendered so by their 
 pleasant conversation. 
 
 I have presented Mr. Rogers with some 
 acquisitions for his cabinet of antique bijou- 
 terie, with which he appears delighted. I 
 outbid Mr. Millingen, who was bargaining 
 at Naples for these little treasures, and secured 
 a diminutive Cupid, a Bacchus, and a small 
 bunch of grapes of pure gold, and of exquisite 
 workmanship, which will now be transferred to 
 the museum of my friend, Mr. Rogers. He 
 will not, I dare say, be more grateful for the 
 gift of my Cupid than his sex generally are 
 
PARIS. 123 
 
 when ladies no longer young bestow their 
 love on them, and so I hinted when giving 
 him the little winged god ; but, n'importe, the 
 gift may please, though the giver be forgotten. 
 
 Lord Pembroke dined here yesterday. He 
 is peculiarly well-bred and gentlemanlike, and 
 looks a nobleman from top to toe. He has 
 acquired all the polish and savoir vivre of the 
 best foreign society without having lost any of 
 the more solid and fine qualities peculiar to 
 the most distinguished portion of his country- 
 men. Lord Pembroke maintains the reputa- 
 tion of EngUsh taste in equipages by sporting 
 horses and carriages that excite the admira- 
 tion, if not the envy, of the Parisians, among 
 whom he is, and deserves to be, very popular. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton paid me a long visit 
 tO'dav. We talked over old times, and our 
 mutual friend Dr. Parr, in whose society we 
 formerly passed such agreeable hours in St. 
 James's Square. The Duke is a very well- 
 informed man, has read much, and remembers 
 what he has read ; and the ceremoniousness 
 
124 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 of his manners, with which some people find 
 fault, I have got used to, and rather like than 
 otherwise. The mixture of chivalric senti- 
 ments, Scotch philosophy, and high hreed- 
 insf of the old French school which meet 
 in the Duke, render his conversation very 
 piquant. 
 
 He has, indeed, the dignity of his three duke- 
 doms ; the fierte of that of Chatelherault, the 
 reserve of that of England, and the spirit of 
 that of Scotland : witness his dignified reproof 
 to the Due de Blacas at Rome, when that very 
 unpopular personage, then Ambassador from 
 the court of France, presumed to comment on 
 the frequency of the Duke of Hamilton's 
 visits to the Princess Pauline Borghese, who, 
 being a Buonaparte, was looked on with a 
 jealous eye by Blacas. 
 
 Monsieur Mignet spent last evening here. 
 The more I see of him the more I am pleased 
 with his society. To a mind stored with know- 
 ledge he joins a happy facility of bringing forth 
 its treasures, never as if ostentatious of his 
 
PARIS. 125 
 
 wealth, but in illustration of any topic that is 
 discussed, on which he brings it to bear most 
 aptly and appropriately. His countenance 
 lights up with expression when he converses, 
 and adds force to an eloquence always interest- 
 ing and often instructive. 
 
 Though Monsieur Mignet shines in mono- 
 logue more than in dialogue, there is nothing 
 either dictatorial or pedantic in his manner. 
 He utters opinions new and original, which 
 it is e\ddent he has deeply reflected on, and 
 elucidates them to the comprehension of his 
 auditors with great felicity. I like listening 
 to the conversation of such a man j and clever 
 people, when they find an attentive listener, 
 are incited to talk well. 
 
 In general society, in which many persons 
 of totally opposite tastes, pursuits, and opi- 
 nions, are thro^^ni together, a clever man has 
 seldom an opportunity of bringing forth the 
 treasures of his mind. He can only dispense 
 the small coin, which is easily changed with 
 those he comes in contact with 5 but the 
 
V26 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 weighty and valuable metal is not brought 
 into use, because he knows the greater number 
 of those around him could give him no equiva- 
 lent in exchange. 
 
 , conversing with Lady to-day, 
 
 she observed that in early life conscience 
 has less influence than in advanced life, and 
 accounted for it by the nearer approach to 
 death rendering people more alarmed, and con- 
 sequently more disposed to listen to it. Some 
 persons attribute all good impulses to fear, 
 as if mortals were more governed by its 
 influence than by that of love and gratitude. 
 
 If conscience is less frequently heard in 
 youth, it is that the tumultuous throbbing of 
 the heart, and the wild suggestions of the 
 passions, prevent its " still small voice " from 
 being audible ; but in the decline of life, when 
 the heart beats languidly and the passions 
 slumber, it makes itself heard, and on its 
 whispers depends our happiness or misery. 
 
 My old acquaintance. Lord Palmerston, has 
 arrived at Paris, and dined here yesterday. 
 
PARIS. 127 
 
 to meet the Due and Duchesse de Guiche, 
 Count Valeski, and Mr. Poulett Thomson. 
 Seven years have produced no change in Lord 
 Palmerston. He is the same intelligent, sensi- 
 ble, and agreeable person that I remember 
 him to have been for many years. 
 
 Lord Palmerston has much more ability 
 than people are disposed to give him credit 
 for. He is, or used to be, when I lived in 
 England, considered a good man of business, 
 acute in the details, and quick in the compre- 
 hension of complicated questions. Even this 
 is no mean praise, but I think him entitled 
 to more ; for, thous^h constantlv and busilv 
 occupied with official duties, he has contrived 
 to find time to read everv thinof worth read- 
 ing, and to make himself acquainted with the 
 politics of other countries. 
 
 Lively, well-bred, and unaffected. Lord 
 Palmerston is a man that is so well acquainted 
 with the routine of official duties, performs 
 them so readily and pleasantly, and is so fi'ee 
 
128 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 from the assumption of self-importance that 
 too frequently appertains to adepts in them, 
 that, whether Whig or Tory government has 
 the ascendant in England, his services will 
 be alwavs considered a desideratum to be 
 secured if possible. 
 
 Lord Castlereagh, Mr. Cutlar Fergusson, 
 and Count Valeski dined here yesterday. 
 Lord C. has just arrived from England, and 
 is a good specimen of the young men of the 
 present day. He reminds me of his uncle, 
 the late Marquess of Londonderry, one of the 
 most amiable and well-bred men I ever knew. 
 
 Lord C is very animated and piquant 
 
 in conversation, thinks for himself, and says 
 what he thinks with a frankness not often met 
 with in our times. Yet there is no hrusquerie 
 in his manners ; an contraire, they are soft 
 and very pleasing ; and this contrast between 
 the originality and fearlessness of his opinions, 
 and the perfect good-breeding with which they 
 are expressed, lend a peculiar attraction to 
 
PARIS. 1^9 
 
 his manner. If Lord C were not a man 
 
 of fashion he would become something vastly 
 better, for he has much of the chivalrous 
 spirit of his father and the tact of his uncle. 
 Fashion is the gulf in whose vortex so many 
 fine natures are wrecked in England ; what 
 a pity it is that they cannot be rescued from 
 its dangers ! 
 
 Mr. Cutlar Fergusson is a clever and 
 amiable man, mild, well-informed, and agree- 
 able. 
 
 The Baron and Baroness de Ruysch spent 
 yesterday with us. They are an estimable cou- 
 ple, and very pleasant withal. His philosophy, 
 which has nothing of the ascetic in it, har- 
 monises very well with her vivacity, and her 
 sprightliness never degenerates into levity. It 
 is the gaiety of a mind at ease, pleased with 
 others, and content with self. How unlike 
 
 the exuberant spirits of , which always 
 
 depress mine more than a day's Ute-a-tete 
 with the moodiest hypochondriac could do ! 
 
 G 2 
 
130 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Nothing can be more dreary and cheerless 
 than the weather ; and a second winter's 
 residence at Paris has convinced me that 
 London is infinitely preferable at this season, 
 except to those who consider gaiety an equiva- 
 lent for comfort. The negligence and bad 
 management of the persons whose duty it is 
 to remove the snow or mud from the streets, 
 render them not only nearly impassable for 
 pedestrians but exceedingly disagreeable to 
 those who have carriages. 
 
 Previously to the heavy fall of snow that 
 occurred a week ago, and which still en- 
 cumbers the streets, a succession of wet days 
 occasioned an accumulation of mud that o-ave 
 forth most unsavoury odours, and lent a damp 
 chilliness to the atmosphere which sent home 
 to their sick chambers, assailed by sore throats 
 and all the other miseries peculiar to colds, 
 many of those who were so imprudent as to 
 venture abroad. The snow, instead of being 
 swept away, is piled up on each side of the 
 
PARIS. 131 
 
 streets, forminf]: a wall that increases the 
 ofloom and chilliness that reio^ns around. The 
 fogs, too, rise from the Seine, and hover over 
 the Champs Elysees and streets adjacent to 
 it, rendering a passage through them a service 
 of danger. 
 
 Lord Castlereaofh and -Madame Grassini 
 dined here last evening. He was much 
 amused with the raciness and originality of 
 her remarks ; and she was greatly gratified by 
 the polite attention with which he listened 
 to them. At one moment, she pronounced 
 him to be ** le vrai image de ce cher et hon 
 Lord Castlereagh" whom she had so much 
 liked ; and the next she declared him to 
 be exactly like " ce preux chevalier, son p^re,'' 
 who was so irresistible that no female heart, 
 or, as she said, at least no Italian female 
 heart, could resist him. 
 
 Then she spoke of " ce cher et excellent 
 Due de Vellington" who had been so kind 
 to her, asked a thousand questions about him, 
 
132 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the tears starting into her brilliant eyes as she 
 dwelt on the reminiscences of those days when, 
 considered the finest singer and most beautiful 
 woman of her time, she received a homage 
 accorded to her beauty and talent never since 
 so universally decreed to any other prima 
 donna. The Grassiiii cannot be known with- 
 out being liked, she is so warm-hearted, un- 
 affected, and sincere. 
 
 The prettiest sight imaginable was a party 
 of our friends in sledges, who yesterday passed 
 through the streets. This was the first time 
 I had ever seen this mode of conveyance, and 
 nothing can be more picturesque. The sledge 
 of the Due de Guiche, in which reclined the 
 Duchesse, the Due seated behind her and 
 holding, at each side of her, the reins of the 
 horse, presented the form of a swan, the 
 feathers beautifully sculptured. The back 
 of this colossal swan being hollowed out, ad- 
 mitted a seat, which, with the whole of the 
 interior, was covered with fine fur. The 
 
PARIS. 133 
 
 harness and trappings of the superb horse 
 that drew it were richly decorated, and innu- 
 merable silver bells were attached to it, the 
 sound of which was pleasant to the ear. 
 
 The Duchesse, wrapped in a pelisse of the 
 finest Russian sable, never looked handsomer 
 than in her sledge, her fair cheeks tinged with 
 a bright pink by the cold air, and her luxu- 
 riant silken curls falling on the dark fur that 
 encircled her throat. 
 
 Count A. d'Orsay's sledge presented the 
 form of a dragon, and the accoutrements and 
 horse were beautiful ; the harness was of red 
 morocco, embroidered with gold. The Prince 
 Poniatowski and Comte Valeski followed in 
 sledges of the ordinary Russian shape, and 
 the whole cavalcade had a most picturesque 
 effect. The Parisians appeared to be highly 
 delighted with the sight, and, above all, with 
 the beautiful Duchesse borne along through 
 the snow in her swan. 
 
 My medical adviser pressed me so much 
 
134 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 to accede to the wishes of my friends and try 
 the salutary effect of a drive in a sledge, that 
 I yesterday accompanied them to St. Cloud, 
 where we dined, and returned at night hy 
 torch-light. Picturesque as is the appearance 
 of the sledges by day-light, it is infinitely more 
 so by night, particularly of those that have 
 the form of animals or birds. 
 
 The swan of the Duchesse de Guiche had 
 bright lamps in its eyes, which sent forth a 
 clear light that was reflected in prismatic 
 colours on the drifted snow, and ice-gemmed 
 branches of the trees, as we drove through 
 the Bois de Boulogne. Grooms, bearing 
 lighted torches, preceded each sledge ; and 
 the sound of the bells in the Bois, silent 
 and deserted at that hour, made one fancy 
 one's self transported to some far northern 
 region. 
 
 The dragon of Comte A. d'Orsay looked 
 strangely fantastic at night. In the mouth, as 
 well as the eyes, w^as a brilliant red light ; and 
 
PARIS. 135 
 
 to a tiger-skin covering, that nearly concealed 
 the cream-coloured horse, revealing only the 
 white mane and tail, was attached a douhle 
 line of silver gilt bells, the jingle of which 
 was very musical and cheerful. 
 
 The shadows of the tall trees falling on an 
 immense plain of snow, the light flashing in 
 fitful gleams fi'om the torches and lamps as 
 w-e were hurried rapidly along, looked strange 
 and unearthly, and reminded me of some of 
 the scenes described in those northern fictions 
 perused in the happy days of childhood. 
 
 This excursion and exposure to the wintry 
 air procured me a good night's sleep, — the 
 first enjoyed since the severity of the weather 
 has deprived me of my usual exercise. This 
 revival of an old fashion (for in former days 
 sledges were considered as indispensable in 
 the winter remise of a grand seigneur in 
 France as cabriolets or britchkas are in the 
 summer) has greatly pleased the Parisian 
 world, and crowds flock to see them as they 
 
136 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 pass along. The velocity of the movement, 
 the gaiety of the sound of the hells, and the 
 cold bracing air, have a very exhilarating effect 
 on the spirits. 
 
 Met the Prince Polignac at the Duchesse 
 de G 's to-day. His countenance is re- 
 markably good, his air and manner ti^^s 
 distingue, and his conversation precisely what 
 might he expected from an English gentle- 
 man — mild, reasonable, and unaffected. If 
 I had not previously known him to be one 
 of the most amiable men in the world, I 
 should have soon formed this judgment of 
 him, for every expression of his countenance, 
 and every word he utters, give this impres- 
 sion. 
 
 The Prince Polignac has lived much in 
 England, and seems to me to be formed to 
 live there, for his tastes are decidedly English. 
 Twice married, both his wives were English ; 
 so that it is no wonder that he has adopted 
 much of our modes of thinking. Highly as 
 
PARIS. 137 
 
 I am disposed to estimate him, I do not think 
 that he is precisely the person calculated to 
 cope with the difficulties that must heset a 
 minister, and, ahove all, a minister in France, 
 in times like the present. 
 
 The very qualities that render him so he- 
 loved in private life, and which make his 
 domestic circle one of the happiest in the 
 world, are perhaps those which unfit him for 
 so trying a post as the one he is now called 
 on to hold — a post requiring ahilities so 
 various, and qualifications so manifold, that 
 few, if any, could he found to possess the 
 rare union. 
 
 A spirit is rife in France that renders the 
 position of premier in it almost untenable ; 
 and he must unite the firmness of a stoic, 
 the knowledofe of a Machiavelli, and the hold- 
 ness of a Napoleon, who could hope to stem 
 the tide that menaces to set in and sweep 
 away the present institutions. If honesty of 
 
138 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 intention, loyalty to his sovereign, personal 
 courage, attachment to his country, and per- 
 fect disinterestedness could secure success, 
 then might Prince Polignac expect it. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 May Some months have elaj)sed since 
 
 I noted do\\*n a line in this book. Indisposi- 
 tion and its usual attendants, langour and las- 
 situde, have caused me to throw it by. Time 
 that once rolled as pleasantly as rapidlv along, 
 seems now to pace as slowly as sadly ; and 
 even the approach of spring, that joyous season 
 never before unwelcomed, now awakens only 
 painful recollections. Who can see the trees 
 putting forth their leaves without a dread 
 that, ere they have yet expanded into their 
 full growth, some one may be snatched away 
 who ^^ith us hailed their first opening ver- 
 dure? 
 
 When once Death has invaded our hearths 
 
140 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 and torn from us some dear object on whose 
 existence our happiness depended, we lose all 
 the confidence previously fondly and foolishly 
 experienced in the stability of the blessings 
 we enjoy, and not only deeply mourn those 
 lost, but tremble for those yet spared to us. 
 I once thought that I could never behold 
 this genial season without pleasure ; alas ! it 
 now occasions only gloom. 
 
 Captain William Anson, the brother of 
 Lord Anson, dined here yesterday. He is a 
 very remarkable young man ; highly distin- 
 guished in his profession, being considered 
 one of the best officers in the navy, and pos- 
 sessing all the accomplishments of a finished 
 gentleman. His reading has been extensive, 
 and his memory is very retentive. He has 
 been in most quarters of the globe, and has 
 missed no opportunity of cultivating his mind 
 and of increasinof his stock of knowledofe. He 
 is, indeed, a worthy descendant of his great 
 ancestor, who might well be proud of such 
 
PARIS. 141 
 
 a scion to the ancient stock. Devoted to the 
 Jirduoiis duties of his profession, he studies 
 everv amelioration in it con amove : and, if 
 a long life be granted to him, will prove one 
 of its brififhtest ornaments. 
 
 The Marquis and Marquise de B spent 
 
 last evening here, and several people dropped 
 in. Among them was the pretty Madame de 
 
 la H , as piquant and lively as ever, as 
 
 content with herself (and she has reason to 
 be so, being very good-looking and amusing) 
 and as careless of the suffrages of others. I 
 like the young and the gay of my own sex, 
 thouofh I am no lono^er either. 
 
 Prince Paul Lieven and Captain Cadogan* 
 dined here yesterday. The first is as sjnritiiel 
 and clever as formerly, and the second is as 
 frank, high-spirited, and well-bred — the very 
 beau ideal of a son of the sea, possessino- all 
 the attributes of that generous race, joined 
 
 * The present Earl of Cadogan. 
 
142 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 to all those said to be peculiar to the high- 
 born and well-educated. 
 
 I like the conversation of such men — men 
 who, nursed in the lap of luxury, are sent 
 from the noble dwellings of their sires to be 
 " cabined, cribbed, confined," in (to my think- 
 ing) the most unbearable of all prisons — a 
 ship ; pass months and years exposed to hard- 
 ships, privations, and dangers, from the en- 
 durance of which even the poor and lowly born 
 often shrink, and bring back to society the 
 high breeding and urbanity not to be surpassed 
 in those whose lots have been exempt from 
 such trials ; and, what is still more precious, 
 the experience and reflection acquired in their 
 perilous profession, and in the many hours of 
 solitude and anxiety that appertain to it. ^ 
 
 Sat a considerable time with the Duchesse 
 de Guiche to-day. How amiable and kind- 
 hearted she is, and how unspoilt by all the 
 brilliancy of her position ! While I was there 
 the mother and son of a young page, for whom 
 
PARIS. 143 
 
 the Due and Diiehesse have obtained that 
 office at court, came to thank her. The boy 
 is a very fine youth, and the mother and sister 
 seem to dote on him. Thev reminded me of 
 the mother and sister that a sentimental writer 
 would have created for the occasion, beinof 
 exceedingly interesting in their appearance 
 and manner. The bov was evidentlv as fond 
 and proud of them as they were of him, and 
 the group formed a charming picture. 
 
 The warmth and gentleness of the manners 
 of the Duchesse de G , and the remark- 
 able beautv of her face and fio^ure, never 
 appeared more captivating in my eyes than 
 when I beheld her to-dav, evincino^ such £Ood 
 nature to the youthful page and his mother 
 and sister ; and I saw by their eyes, when 
 they took leave of her, that she sent away 
 grateful hearts. 
 
 Jul^ 1830. — Indisposition has interrupted 
 my journal for several weeks, and idleness 
 has prolonged the chasm. The noting do^Mi 
 
144 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the daily recurrence of uninteresting events is 
 as dull as the endurance of them. 
 
 If reports may be credited, we are on the 
 eve of some popular commotion in France, 
 and the present ministers are said to be either 
 ignorant of the danger that menaces, or un- 
 prepared to meet it. The conquest of Algiers 
 has produced much less exultation in the peo- 
 ple than might have naturally been expected ; 
 and this indifference to an event calculated 
 to gratify the amour propre which forms so 
 peculiar a characteristic of the nation, is con- 
 sidered a bad sign by those who affect to be 
 acquainted with the people. I have so often 
 heard rumours of discontent and revolts that I 
 have grown incredulous, and I think and hope 
 the French are too wise to try any dangerous 
 experiments. 
 
 ^Qth July, — This morning General E 
 
 came to breakfast with us, and announced 
 that the ordonnances were yesterday signed in 
 council at St. Cloud. This good man and 
 
PARIS. 145 
 
 brave soldier expressed the liveliest regret at 
 this rash measure, and the utmost alarm at 
 the consequences likely to result from it. Is 
 Charles the Tenth ignorant of the actual state 
 of things in Paris, and of the power of public 
 opinion ? or does he hope to vanquish the 
 resistance likely to be offered to this act ? 
 I hope his majesty may not acquire this know- 
 ledge when it has become too late to derive 
 advantage from it. 
 
 The unpopularity of the present ministry, 
 and above all of its leader, the Prince Polio-- 
 nac, is surprising, when one considers hovv' 
 estimable his private character is, and that 
 theirs are irreproachable. They are rendered 
 responsible for the will of the sovereign, who, 
 if report speak truth, is very pertinacious in 
 exacting a rigid fulfilment of it whenever 
 it is exercised. 
 
 The present are not times to try experi- 
 ments how far the wdll of a monarch can be 
 pushed ; and it is not in France, as in England, 
 
 VOL. II. H 
 
146 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 where our law supposes that a king can do 
 no wrong, for the French are prone to pay 
 no more respect to sovereigns than to their 
 supposed advisers, and hoth may suffer a 
 heavy penalty for incurring the dislike of the 
 people. 
 
 The prosperity of France, which is acknow- 
 ledged by all, has failed to silence the mur- 
 murs of discontent which, loud and deep, are 
 heard every where save in the palace, — too 
 frequently the last place where public opinion 
 gets an impartial hearing. The success of 
 the Algerine expedition has buoyed up the 
 confidence of the ministry in their own 
 strength ; but, if I may credit what I hear, 
 it has by no means really added to it. 
 
 Concessions too long delayed come with a 
 bad grace when at length extorted, and the 
 change of ministry factiously demanded^ even 
 if complied with, would have placed the sove- 
 reign in any thing but a dignified position. 
 The dissolution of the Chambers in March, 
 
PARIS. 147 
 
 after a session of only ten days, might be* 
 considered as a demonstration of discontent 
 on the part of the monarch, as well as 
 a want of power of quelling the spirit that 
 evoked it. 
 
 A circumstance, trivial in itself, added to 
 this unpopularity, which was, that several of 
 the deputies were on their route to Paris when 
 the unexpected intelligence of the dissolution 
 reached them, and they could not pardon the 
 expense to which they had been put by this 
 unnecessary frais de route^ their places in 
 the diligence being paid for. How frequently 
 do trifles exercise a powerful influence over 
 o^rave affkirs ! 
 
 The portion of the public press that ad- 
 vocate the defence of the government is even 
 more injudicious than that which assail it ; 
 and the monarchy has decidedly suffered in 
 general opinion by the angry excitement pro- 
 duced by the recrimination of both parties. 
 The prosecutions entered into against the 
 
148 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 editors of the liberal papers are considered 
 by the party to which they belong to be per- 
 secutions ; and the sentiments avowed by the 
 Gazette de France are received as those of 
 not only the government but of the sovereign. 
 The discussions occasioned by these prosecu- 
 tions, as well as by the principles of monarchi- 
 cal absolutism maintained by the adverse party, 
 have greatly extended the ranks of the liberals, 
 who, looking on the editors who expound or 
 promulgate their opinions as martyrs, become 
 more exasperated against their opponents, and 
 more reckless in the modes likely to be 
 adopted for marking their disapprobation. 
 
 ^^th. — On returning from a late drive last 
 night we passed near the hotel of the Minister 
 des Finances, around which some fifty or sixty 
 persons, chiefly youths, were assembled, crying 
 out ''Vive la cliarte!" ''A has les minis tres /" 
 A patrol passed close to these persons, but 
 made no attempt to disperse them, which I 
 think was rather unwise, for, encouraged by 
 
PARIS. 149 
 
 this impunity, their numhers, I am told, in- 
 creased rapidly. 
 
 I have just heard that the post of gen- 
 d^armes was tripled this morning, and that 
 a crowd of persons have assembled around 
 the hotel of the Prince Polignac, where 
 a cabinet council was held. It is said 
 that the ministers were insulted as they en- 
 tered. This looks ill ; nevertheless, I trust 
 that it is nothing more than a demonstration 
 of the spirit that is rife in the people, and 
 that no more violent ones will be resorted to. 
 The visitors I have seen to-day seem much 
 alarmed. 
 
 The Due de Guiche set off for St. Cloud 
 vesterdav morning, the moment he had read 
 the ordonnances. Had his counsel been lis- 
 tened to, they would never have been pro- 
 mul orated, for he is one of the few who, with 
 a freedom from prejudice that enables him 
 to judge dispassionately of the actual state 
 of public opinion, has the moral courage to 
 
150 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 declare the truth to his sovereign, however 
 unpalatable that truth might be, or however 
 prejudicial to his own interests. 
 
 I have this moment returned from a drive 
 through the streets, and, though far from being 
 an alarmist, I beoin to think that affairs wear 
 a more serious aspect than I dreaded. Already 
 has a collision taken place between the popu- 
 lace and the soldiers, who attempted to dis- 
 perse them near the Palais Royal ; and it 
 required the assistance of a charge of cavalry 
 to secure the dangerous victory to themselves. 
 
 Crowds were hurrying through the streets, 
 many of the shops were closed, and not above 
 three or four carriages were to be seen. 
 Never did so great a change take place in 
 the aspect of a city in so few hours ! Yester- 
 day the business of life flowed on in its usual 
 current. The bees and the drones of this 
 vast hive were buzzing about, and the butter- 
 flies of fashion were expanding their gay wings 
 in the sunshine. To-day the industrious and 
 
PARIS. 151 
 
 orderly seem friglitened from their usual occu- 
 pations, and scarcely a person of those termed 
 fashionable is to be seen. 
 
 "VMiere are all the household of Charles the 
 Tenth, that vast and well-paid crowd who 
 were wont to fill the ante-rooms of the Tuil- 
 leries on gala days, obsequiously watching 
 to catch a nod from the monarch, whose 
 sliofhtest wish was to them as the laws of the 
 Medes and Persians? Can it be that they 
 have disappeared at the first cloud that has 
 darkened the horizon of their sovereign, and 
 increased the dano^er that menaces him by 
 shewinor that they have not courao^e to meet 
 it? Heaven send, for the honour of France, 
 that the noblesse of the court of Charles the 
 Tenth may not follow the disgraceful example 
 furnished by that of his unfortunate brother, 
 Louis the Sixteenth ! In England how dif- 
 ferent would it be if dano^er menaced the 
 
 sovereign i 
 
 T- 
 
152 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 has just been here, and, in answer 
 
 to my question of where are the men on whose 
 fidelity the king could count, and in whose 
 military experience he might confide in such 
 a crisis as the present, he told me that for 
 the purposes of election interests all the gene- 
 ral officers who could be trusted had unfor- 
 tunately been sent from the court. 
 
 The sound of firing has announced that 
 order, far from being restored, seems less 
 likely than ever to be so. People are rushing 
 wildly through the streets proclaiming that 
 several persons have been killed by the mili- 
 tary. All is confusion and alarm, and every 
 one appears to dread what the coming night 
 may produce. 
 
 Intelligence has just reached us that the 
 mob are demolishing the lanterns, and that 
 they have broken into the shops of the gun- 
 smiths, and seized all the arms they could 
 find. The Due de Raguse commands the 
 
PARIS. 153 
 
 troops, and already several charges have taken 
 place. This selection, under present circum- 
 stances, is not considered to be a good one. 
 
 The people are forming barricades in vari- 
 ous parts of the town, and some of our 
 servants, who have been out to collect intel- 
 ligence, assert that no hindrance seems to 
 be opposed to this mischievous measure. 
 Where are the civil authorities during all 
 this commotion ? is the natural question that 
 suggests itself to one who knows how in 
 London, under any disturbance, they would 
 oppose themselves to check such proceedings. 
 And why, if the civil authorities are too weak 
 to resist the torrent, is there not a sufficient 
 military force to stem it ? is the next question 
 that presents itself. No one seems to know 
 where the blame lies, but every one foretells 
 a dangerous result from this unaccountable 
 state of things. 
 
 The promulgation of the ordonnances, which 
 has led to this tumult, ought to have been 
 
 H 2 
 
154 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 accompanied by a display of force sufficient 
 to maintain their enactment. If a government 
 will try the hazardous measure of a coup 
 d'etaty it ought to be well prepared to meet 
 the probable consequences. 
 
 I feel so little disposed to sleep that, in- 
 stead of seeking my pillow, I occupy myself 
 by noting down my impressions, occasionally 
 looking out of my window to catch the sounds 
 that break the stillness of the night. The 
 heat is intense, but the sky is as pure and 
 cloudless as if it canopied a calm and slum- 
 bering multitude instead of a waking and 
 turbulent one, filled with the most angry 
 emotions. 
 
 Comtes d'Orsay and Valeski have just 
 returned, and state that they have been as far 
 as the Place de la Bourse, where they saw 
 a scene of the utmost confusion. The popu- 
 lace had assembled there in great force, armed 
 with every kind of weapon they could obtain, 
 their arms bared up to the shoulders, and the 
 
PARIS. 155 
 
 whole of them presenting the most wild and 
 motley appearance imaginable. They had set 
 fire to the Corps de Garde, the flames of 
 which spread a light around as bright as day. 
 Strange to say, the populace evinced a perfect 
 good-humour, and more resembled a mob met 
 to celebrate a saturnalia than to subvert a 
 monarchy. 
 
 Comtes d'O and V were recoof- 
 
 nised by some of the people, who seemed 
 pleased at seeing them. On returning, they 
 passed through the Rue de Richelieu, which 
 they found in total darkness, all the lanterns 
 
 ha^dng been broken. Comte d'O luckilv 
 
 found his cabriolet in the Rue de Menars, where 
 he had left it, not being able to take it farther, 
 owing to a portion of the pavement being 
 broken up, and had only time to reach the 
 club-house in the Rue de Gramont, in the 
 court of which he placed his cab, before the 
 populace rushed by, destroying every thing 
 they met, among which was the carriage of 
 
156 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the Prince Tufiakin. A considerable number 
 of the members of the club were assembled, 
 a few of whom witnessed, from the balcony 
 on the Boulevard, the burning of the chairs 
 placed there, the breaking of the lamps, and 
 other depredations. 
 
 Some gentlemen went to the battalion of the 
 guards stationed in front of the Prince Polig- 
 nac's, and suggested to the officer in command 
 the propriety of sending a few men to arrest 
 the progress of the insurgents, a thing then 
 easily to be accomplished ; but the officer, 
 having no orders, declined to take any step, 
 and the populace continued their depredations 
 within three hundred yards of so imposing a 
 force as a battalion of the guards ! 
 
 What may not to-morrow's sun witness, ere 
 it goes down ? But conjecture is, vain in a 
 crisis in which every thing appears to go on 
 in a mode so wholly unaccountable. The 
 exhibition of a powerful force might and 
 would, I am persuaded, have precluded the 
 
PARIS. 157 
 
 collision that has occurred between the popu- 
 lace and the militan. Blood has been shed 
 on both sides, and this has rendered the 
 breach between people and sovereign too wide 
 to be repaired except by something almost 
 miraculous, and alas ! the time of miracles 
 is past. 
 
 I cannot help wondering at the calmness I 
 feel on this occasion. I experience no per- 
 sonal alarm ; but I am apprehensive for my 
 friends, some of whom are deeply interested 
 in this struggle. How may their destinies, 
 lately so brilliant, be overclouded by the change 
 that menaces to take place ! 
 
 AVell may Monsieur Salvandy have observed 
 
 at the ball so recently given by the Due of 
 
 Orleans to the roval families of France and 
 
 Naples, " This may be termed a Neapolitan 
 
 fete, for they are dancing over a volcano/' 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 All now seems quiet, so I will go to bed. 
 Heaven only knows if to-morrow night we 
 may be allowed to seek our pillows in safety. 
 
 28 ^A. — My Jejnme de chamhre undrew my 
 curtains this morning, " with such a face — so 
 faint, so spiritless, so dull, so dead in look, 
 so woe-begone " — proclaiming that barricades 
 had been erected during the night, and that 
 the bodies of those killed in the encounter 
 yesterday have been paraded through the 
 streets in order to excite still more the angry 
 feelings of the people. This last measure 
 reminds one of the appalling exhibitions in 
 the fearful and memorable Revolution of 
 
PARIS. 159 
 
 former days ; and the reminiscences it awakens 
 are not calculated to tranquillize the mind. 
 
 She states that the shops are all closed, 
 and that no provisions can be obtained ; the 
 cook complains that his stockpots want re- 
 plenishing ; and the femme de charge hints 
 that the larder is not so well supplied as it 
 would have been had she known what was 
 to occur. Each and all of these functionaries 
 seem wholly occupied by the dread of not being 
 able to furnish us with as copious repasts 
 as usual, unmindful that a mighty throne is 
 tottering to its foundation, and that a struggle 
 is going on in which many lives may be 
 sacrificed. 
 
 The Due de Raguse has incurred great 
 blame for his intercourse with the supposed 
 leaders of the Revolution. This conduct has 
 had the effect of destroying the confidence of 
 the troops in their chief, and of weakening 
 their attachment to the cause they were to 
 support. The Marechal was the Comman- 
 
160 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 dant appointed by the King, and as such, 
 hound to treat as rebels those who opposed 
 themselves to his government; instead of 
 which, he seemed more like the confidant 
 of a party who, it is alleged, owe their victory 
 to his supineness. 
 
 The Due de Guiche has not left his post, 
 near the royal family, since the 26th, except 
 to pass and repass with instructions from the 
 King to the Due de Raguse, twice or thrice 
 a-day. He has been repeatedly recognised 
 by the people, though in plain clothes, and 
 experienced at their hands the respect so w^ell 
 merited by his honourable conduct and de- 
 votion to his sovereign. How often have I 
 heard this noble-minded man censured for 
 encouraging the liberal sentiments of the 
 Dauphin ; and heard this, too, from some of 
 those who are now the first to desert Charles 
 the Tenth in the emergency which is the 
 result of the system they advocated! 
 
 has been here ; he tells me that to 
 
PARIS. 161 
 
 Marshal Marmont the kinof has confided un- 
 limited power, and that Paris has been declared 
 in a state of siege. 
 
 He says that the military dispositions are 
 so defective, that there is not a young officer 
 in the army capable of committing a similar 
 mistake. The regiments are crowded into 
 narrow streets, in which even children may 
 become dangerous enemies, by throwing from 
 the windows every missile within their reach 
 on the heads of the soldiers. He is of opinion 
 that, in twenty-four hours, the populace will 
 be in possession of Paris. The tri-coloured 
 flag is now floating from the towers of Notre 
 Dame ; while the white flag of the luckless 
 Bourbons, as often stained by the faithlessness 
 of its followers, as by the blood of its foes, 
 still waves from the column of the Place 
 Vendome, — that column erected to commemo- 
 rate the glory of the great chief now calmly 
 sleeping in his ocean-washed grave. 
 
 The civil authorities seem paralyzed : the 
 
l62 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 troops have been twelve hours on duty without 
 any refreshment, except that afforded by the 
 humanity of the people, who have brought 
 them wine and bread ; can it be hoped that 
 these same soldiers will turn their arms 
 against those who have supplied their neces- 
 sities ? 
 
 The royal emblems are destroyed wherever 
 they are found, and the bust of the king has 
 been trampled on. The disgusting exhibition 
 of the dead bodies has had the bad effect 
 calculated upon, and all is tumult and dis- 
 order. Every one wonders w^here are the 
 authorities, and why a sufficient military force 
 does not appear, for there has been ample 
 time, since the disposition to insurrection mani- 
 fested by the people, to assemble the troops. 
 
 Every visitor, and, notwithstanding the dis- 
 turbed state of Paris, we have already had 
 several to-day, announces some fresh disaster, 
 each representing it according to the political 
 creed to which he adheres. The Royalists 
 
PARIS. ' 163 
 
 assert that the outbreak is the result of a long 
 and grave conspiracy, fomented by those who 
 expect to derive advantage from it ; while the 
 Liberals maintain that it has arisen sponta- 
 neously and simultaneously from the wounded 
 spirit of liberty, lashed into a frenzied resist- 
 ance by the ordonnances. I pretend not to 
 know which of these statements is the most 
 correct ; but I believe that the favourite 
 opinion of the worthy Sir Roger de Coverley, 
 that " much could be said on both sides of 
 the question," might now fairly be urged ; 
 for, according to the march of events, it is 
 but too probable that the melodrama now 
 enactinof before our eves has not been an 
 impromptu ; and it is quite clear that the 
 ordonnances have furnished the occasion, and 
 the excuse (if such were required), for the 
 performance. 
 
 Well might a great Italian writer pronounce 
 revolutions to be the carnivals of history. 
 This one seems to be not only a carnival but 
 
l64 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Saturnalia, for the ebriety of the slaves of 
 liberty is well calculated to disgust the friends ; 
 and those who witness this intoxication are 
 reminded of the observation of Voltaire, that 
 ^^ Les Frangais goutent de la liherte comme 
 des liqueurs fortes avec lesquelles Us s*enivrent,*^ 
 A revolution effected by physical instead of 
 moral force, is a grave wound inflicted on social 
 order and civilization — a wound which it takes 
 ages to heal. 
 
 When on the point of sitting down to our 
 dejeuner a la fourchette (for people will eat 
 while thrones are crumbling), repeated knock- 
 ings at the porte-cochere induced us to look 
 from the window in order to see who the 
 persons were who thus loudly demanded ad- 
 mittance, when it was discovered that they 
 were Doctors Pasquier and De Guise. They 
 had been dressing the wounded at the hos- 
 pital in the Faubourg du Roule, and finding 
 on their return that the Champs Elysees and 
 Rue St. Honore were the scenes of combat, 
 
PARIS. 
 
 165 
 
 had bethought themselves of our vicinity, and 
 sought shelter. AVhen our unexpected visitants, 
 deeming themselves fortunate in having found 
 a refuge, prepared to join our repast, it was 
 ludicrous to observe the lengthened faces of our 
 servants at this addition to our party. They, 
 having previously lamented the paucity of pro- 
 visions in the larder, and being aware of the 
 difficulty^ if not impossibility, of procuring a 
 further supply, looked on the new-comers as 
 interlopers, who would inevitably diminish the 
 ah'eady too limited stock. 
 
 We had not been seated above five minutes 
 at table, when the report of fire-arms announced 
 that hostilities were renewed, and we hurried 
 to the drawing-room to observe what was going 
 on. The servants looked as if they rather en- 
 joyed the interruption to the morning's meal, 
 thinking no doubt that it would preserve the 
 provisions, now so precious in their eyes, and 
 they prepared to remove the viands with un- 
 usual alacritv; but their visages lengthened 
 
166 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 when told to let them remain on the table, 
 and became still longer when we shortly after 
 resumed our places at the board. 
 
 An Englishwoman, in the kitchen establish- 
 ment, has just performed a feat that has ele- 
 vated her into a heroine in the eyes of the rest 
 of the servants. Finding the larder not suffi- 
 ciently supplied, she sallied forth into the 
 street, passed through the Rue St. Honor e, 
 while the fighting was going on, and returned 
 bearing a basket of meat, obtained certainly at 
 the risk of her life, as shots were flying around 
 her. As none of the men offered to undertake 
 this action, she is now considered little less 
 than an amazon, and her amour propre being 
 excited by the commendations bestowed on her 
 courage, she declares that she will go forth for 
 all that may be required, as she despises fear. 
 
 We have now^ entrenched ourselves in the 
 front drawing-rooms, with the external shut- 
 ters, which are stuffed to exclude noise, closed, 
 but which we open occasionally, in order to see 
 
PARIS. 167 
 
 what is going on. Sitting in darkness, with 
 the sound of firing, and the shouts of the 
 people, continually in our ears, I can hardly 
 bring myself to think that all that is now 
 passing is not a dream. 
 
 The populace, ten minutes ago, rushed from 
 the Rue St. Honore towards the Champs 
 Elysees, assailing the troops stationed in the 
 latter place ; and were in turn assailed by 
 these last, and forced to retreat to the Rue 
 St. Honore. The scene was one of the utmost 
 confusion. 
 
 The firing is going on ; stragglers are rush- 
 ing to and fro ; a body of troops are stationed 
 at the bottom of this street, and some pieces 
 of cannon have been placed. A thousand ru- 
 mours are afloat, each more improbable than 
 the other. One moment it is announced that 
 several regiments have fraternized with the 
 people ; another, that the royal family have 
 fled to Belgium ; the next, that Paris is to be 
 fired by the insurgents : but it would be im- 
 
168 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 possible to repeat one-half the wild rumours in 
 circulation. 
 
 There is a mixture of the sublime and of the 
 ridiculous in the scenes now passing before my 
 eyes that is quite extraordinary. Looking from 
 my window, twenty minutes ago, I saw a troop 
 of boys, amounting to about fifty, the eldest 
 of whom could not be more than ten or eleven 
 years old, and some who appeared under that 
 age, march through our streets, with wooden 
 swords, and lances pointed with sharp nails, flags 
 flying, and crying, ** Vive la charte! Vive la 
 liberte!" The gravity and intrepidity of these 
 gamins de Paris would, at any other period, 
 have elicited a smile ; but now, this demonstra- 
 tion on the part of mere children creates the re- 
 flection of how profound and general must be 
 the sympathy enlisted against the government 
 and the sovereign in the hearts of the people. 
 
 Many are those who, like their children, 
 shout " Vive la charte!" and " Vive la liberie T 
 who are as ignorant of the true sense and 
 
PARIS. 169 
 
 value of both as they are. Well might the 
 victim, when being led to execution in the days 
 of the past revolution in France, exclaim, ** O 
 Liberty, what crimes are committed in thy 
 name ! " 
 
 One of our servants has this m^oment in- 
 formed me that the children, whose warlike 
 demeanour I was disposed to smile at an hour 
 ago, have rendered {not the state, but the 
 popular cause) some service. The troops, 
 more amused than surprised at the appearance 
 of these mimic soldiers, suffered them to 
 approach closer than prudence warranted ; 
 and the urchins, rushing among the horses, 
 wounded several of the poor animals severely, 
 and effected their retreat before the soldiers 
 were aware of what had occurred. 
 
 A fatality seems to prevail in the present 
 crisis that is little less than marvellous. A 
 want of provisions for the troops is now added 
 to the catalogue of excitements against the 
 cause of royalty. Harassed by the repeated 
 
 VOL. II. I 
 
170 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 attacks of the populace, and exhausted by long 
 exposure to the intense heat of a burning sun, 
 they are little prone to consider as enemies 
 those who approach them with food to allay the 
 pangs of hunger, and drink to cool their 
 
 scorching thirst. , and others who 
 
 have mingled with the crowd, tell me that 
 they have beheld repeated examples of sol- 
 diers throwing down their arms, to embrace 
 those who came to seduce them with the most 
 irresistible of all seductions — refreshment, when 
 they were nearly exhausted by the want of it. 
 
 I shall begin to consider myself half a 
 heroine, after an exploit I performed this 
 evening. The men who shared our dinner 
 having gone out to observe what was passing, 
 I determined, coute qui coute, to pay a visit 
 to my friend Madame Craufurd. I attired 
 myself as simply as possible, and, attended by 
 a valet de pied, sallied forth. Having tra- 
 versed the short distance that separates this 
 house from the Rue St. Honore, I arrived at 
 
PARIS. 171 
 
 the barricade erected in front of the entrance 
 to the Rue Verte, and I confess this obstacle 
 seemed to me, for the first minute or two 
 that I contemplated it, insurmountable. My 
 servant, too, expressed his belief of the diffi- 
 culty, if not impossibility, of climbing over 
 this mountain of loose stones, that I felt half 
 disposed to retrace my steps. 
 
 The shouts of a mob approaching along the 
 Rue St. Honore quickly decided me on the 
 course to pursue; I clambered up as best I 
 could, not without considerable risk ; nor was 
 the danorer and difficulty of the descent on the 
 other side of this rude pyramid less imminent. 
 The evening was more sultry than I ever 
 experienced an evening to be, even in Italy ; 
 the houses were all closed, the streets deserted, 
 except w^hen a few occasional stragglers rushed 
 along, glancing at me with surprise, and utter- 
 incr their comments on my courage. Now and 
 then a doo^ ran bv, with a terrified air and 
 drooping tail, keeping close to the houses as 
 
172 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 if for protection. One might have fancied 
 oneself in some city ravaged by the plague, 
 and the burning heat of the atmosphere, and 
 lurid red of the clouds, might have strength- 
 ened the notion. 
 
 It more than once occurred to me how sin- 
 gular it was for me, a woman and a stranger, 
 to find myself with only one attendant in the 
 streets, on foot, in a city declared to be in a 
 state of siege, and with the noise of firing in 
 the distance, and the shouts of the populace, 
 continually breaking on my ears. 
 
 Having passed the Rue de la Ville TEveque, 
 and entered the Rue d'Anjou, I soon reached 
 the porte-cochere of my friend. My servant 
 knocked, and very loudly, but before the Swiss 
 porter would open the door, he reconnoitred 
 from the window in the entresol of his lodge. 
 He could hardly credit his eyes when he saw 
 me ; and while he unbolted and unchained 
 the door, an operation which took him more 
 time than I thought necessary, I could hear 
 
PARIS. 173 
 
 him muttering that, *' Les dames Anglaises 
 n^ont peur de rien, positiuement rien.^* I was 
 not sorry when I heard the massive door closed 
 after me, \nth its bolts and chains again 
 secured ; but, as I crossed the courtyard, the 
 different aspect of the house, with its closed 
 window^s, reminded me so forcibly of the change 
 that had occurred since my last visit, only three 
 days previously, that I felt more agitated than 
 while traversinof the streets. 
 
 When I entered the drawino^-room, in which 
 a large circle were assembled, Madame Crau- 
 furd, though the servants announced my name, 
 could hardly believe I was indeed come. She 
 wept bitterly w^hile embracing me, and observed 
 on the hardship of a person so aged as herself 
 being called on to witness two revolutions. 
 All the horrors of the first are recalled vividly 
 to her mind, and her terror of what may occur 
 is proportioned to w^hat she remembers to have 
 formerly taken place. Nothing seemed to 
 pacify her terror so much as the fact of my' 
 
174 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 having been permitted to pass unmolested to 
 lier house, though she considered me little 
 less than insane to have undertaken the task. 
 
 "For myself," said Madame C , "I 
 
 have little fear (though her blanched cheek 
 and trembling hand told another story) ; but 
 for those dearer to me than life, what have 
 I not to dread ? You who know the chivalrous 
 sentiments of the Due de Guiche, and the 
 attachment entertained by him and my grand- 
 daughter for the royal family, will understand 
 how much I have to dread for them from the 
 venofeance which their devotion to their sove- 
 reign may draw on their heads. They are 
 not, as you are aware, time-servers, like so 
 many others, who will desert their king in 
 his hour of need. No ; they will brave death, 
 I am assured, rather than forsake in adversity 
 those whose prosperity they shared." 
 
 The Marquis d'Aligre, one of, if not the, 
 richest landed proprietors in France, was 
 among the circle at Madame Craufurd's, and 
 
PARIS. 170 
 
 evinced no little composure and courage in 
 the circumstances in which we found ourselves. 
 He joined me in endeavouring to soothe her 
 fears ; and probably the fact of his having 
 so immense a stake to risk in the crisis now 
 taking place, added not a little weight to the 
 arguments he urged to quiet her alarms. 
 When people have so much to lose, their 
 calmness has an imposing effect ; and the rhe- 
 toric of the most accomplished orator would 
 have probably been less successful than was 
 the composed manner of the Marquis d'Aligre, 
 in restoring the wonted courage of our amiable 
 hostess. 
 
 When I rose to take leave, Madame C 
 
 tried all her efforts to persuade me to i^emain 
 to sleep at her house, and I had no little diffi- 
 culty to escape from her importunity. She 
 would fain send all her men servants to escort 
 me home, and the Marquis d'Aligre also 
 pressingly offered his services ; but I was ob- 
 stinate in my refusal to allow any one to 
 
176 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 accompany me, being convinced that there 
 was even less danger in proceeding with a 
 single servant than more numerously attended. 
 I tore myself from the embraces of Madame 
 
 C , whose tears flowed afresh, and bedewed 
 
 my cheeks, and I once more passed through 
 the courtyard, followed to the porter's lodge 
 by the dames de compagnie,femmes de cham- 
 hre, and vcdets de chamhre, wondering at my 
 courage, off^ering up their prayers for my 
 safety, and proclaiming that only an English- 
 woman w^ould have faced such danger. The 
 old Swiss porter would not risk opening the 
 gate until he had assured himself, from the 
 window, that the coast was clear, and closed 
 it so rapidly when I had passed it as almost 
 to have endangered my heels. 
 
 On returning, I found a cord drawn across 
 the street in front of the barrack in the Rue 
 Verte, and some forty or fifty ill-dressed and 
 riotous men assembled, half-a-dozen of whom 
 held the cord. Having approached close to 
 
PARIS. 177 
 
 it, I paused, and, looking calmly at those who 
 held it, I appealed by looks to their politeness. 
 Some of them laughed aloud, and asked me 
 if I could not leap over the barrier that im- 
 peded my progress, drawing the rope still 
 higher while they spoke, I answered, though 
 I trembled at being exposed to their rude 
 mirth, and still more rude gaze, '' That I felt 
 sure Frenchmen would not compel me to such 
 an unfeminine exertion, or give me cause to 
 tell my compatriots when I returned to Eng- 
 land that deference to women no longer existed 
 in France." 
 
 *' Let her pass ! let her pass ! " exclaimed 
 nearly all the voices of the group ; " she is 
 courageous, and she speaks rightly. Vive les 
 Anglais es ! Vive les Anglaises !'' and the 
 cord was instantly lowered to the ground, and 
 I hastily stepped over it, glad to get out of 
 hearing of the rough compliments bestowed 
 on me. 
 
 My servant had attempted to address them 
 
 i^ 
 
178 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 before I spoke, but they one and all assailed 
 him with a torrent of reproach, demanding if 
 he was not ashamed to wear a livery, the 
 badge of servitude, when all his countrymen 
 were fighting for their liberty. I had again 
 to clamber over the barricade, assisted by my 
 servant, and, before I could cross the Rue 
 St. Honore, encountered various groups of 
 men rushing along, all of whom uttered such 
 invectives against my footman that I deter- 
 mined not again to go out attended by this 
 symbol of aristocracy. 
 
 On reaching my home, the porter observed, 
 with a self-complacency his prudence could 
 not conceal, that he *' knew Madame la Com- 
 tesse had nothing to dread from the people, 
 they were brave and bons enfans, and would 
 not injure a lady;" — a commendation that 
 clearly indicated the state of his feelings. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I HAVE observed a striking change in the 
 manners of the servants during the last three 
 davs. Thev are more familiar, without, how- 
 ever, evincing the least insolence ; their spirits 
 seem unusually exhilarated, and they betray 
 an interest in the struggle in which the people 
 are engaged that leaves no doubt as to the 
 side that excites their sympathy. Every ru- 
 mour of the success of the insurgents is re- 
 peated by them with ill-suppressed animation 
 and pleasure, and the power of the people 
 is exaggerated far beyond the bounds of truth. 
 I confess this folly on their part annoys me, 
 and the more especially as the class to which 
 
180 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 they belong, are totally incapacitated by igno- 
 rance from being able to comprehend even the 
 causes alleged for this popular outbreak. 
 
 Misguided men ! can they hope that servi- 
 tude will be lightened by their being employed 
 by some parvenus, elevated from the dregs of 
 the people by a revolution which sets floating 
 to the top the worst ingredients of the reeking 
 caldron from which it is formed, instead of 
 owning the more gentle and infinitely less 
 degrading sway of those born to, and accus- 
 tomed to rule ? 
 
 Comte and have just come in, 
 
 and report that the last story current is, that 
 fifty thousand men from Rouen are marching 
 to Paris to espouse the cause of the people. 
 They say there is no end to the desertions 
 among the troops. 
 
 The people — the people! I hear of nothing 
 but the people ; but those who speak of them 
 as all and every thing, seem to me to mistake 
 the populace for the people, yet surely the 
 
PARIS. 181 
 
 words are not synonymous. The people, 
 according to my acceptation of the word, are 
 the sober and respectable portion of the com- 
 munity of all countries, including the husband- 
 men who till the earth, and the artisans who 
 fabricate the objects applicable to our positive 
 wants, and superfluous luxuries. How dif- 
 ferent are these from the populace who fill 
 the streets shouting for liberty, by w^hich they 
 mean license ; fighting for a charter of the 
 real meaning of which they are ignorant ; and 
 rendering themselves the blind instruments by 
 which a revolution is to be accomplished, that 
 will leave them rather worse off* than it found 
 them ; for when did those who profit by such 
 events remember wdth gratitude the tools by 
 which it was effected ? 
 
 Thursday, — Repeated knocking at the gate 
 drew me to the window ten minutes ago. 
 The intruder presented a strange mixture of 
 the terrible and the ridiculous, the former pre- 
 dominating. Wearing only his shirt and 
 
182 THE IDLER IN FRANCE, 
 
 trousers, both stained with gore, and the 
 sleeves of the former turned up nearly to the 
 shoulder, a crimson handkerchief was bound 
 round his head, and another encircled his 
 waist. He brandished a huge sword with a 
 black leather string woijnd round his wrist, 
 with one hand, w^hile with the other he assailed 
 the knocker. Hearing the window opened, he 
 looked up, and exclaimed, " Ah ! madame, 
 order the gate to be opened, that I may lay at 
 the feet of my generous master the trophies I 
 have won with this trusty sword," waving the 
 said sword over his head, and pointing to a 
 pair of silver-mounted pistols and a sabre that 
 he had placed on the ground while he knocked 
 at the gate. 
 
 I recognised in this man a helper in the 
 stables of Comte A. d'Orsav, of whom it had 
 a short time previously been reported to us, 
 that when a party of the populace had attempted 
 to force the gate of the stable offices, which 
 are situated in the Rue Verte, and the English 
 
PARIS. • 183 
 
 grooms and coachman were in excessive alarm, 
 this man presented himself at the window, 
 sword in hand, declaring that he, though 
 eno^aofed in the same cause as themselves, 
 would defend, to the last moment of his life, 
 the horses of his master, and the Englishmen 
 whom he considered to be under his protec- 
 tion. This speech elicited thunders of ap- 
 plause from the crowd who retreated, leaving 
 the alarmed servants, whose protector he had 
 avowed himself, impressed with the conviction 
 that he is little short of a hero. 
 
 This man — these same servants, only a few 
 days ago, looked on as the stable drudge, who 
 was to perform all the dirty work, while they, 
 attired in smart liveries, and receiving triple 
 the waofes given to him, were far more orna- 
 mental than useful in the establishment of 
 their employer. They offered him money as 
 a reward for his spirited conduct (the English 
 of all classes, but more especially of that to 
 which they appertain, think that money pays all 
 
184 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 manner of debts), but he indignantly refused 
 the proffered gift. This revolutionary hero 
 had been fighting for several hours to-day, and 
 is said to have evinced a courage and enthu- 
 siasm that remind one of all we read of the 
 spirit of the old Imperial Guard, when animated 
 by the presence of their mighty chief. 
 
 has just brought the intelligence, that 
 
 the Tuilleries and the Louvre are taken by 
 
 the people ! Comte A. d'O sent two of his 
 
 servants (Brement, formerly drill-serjeant in 
 the Guards, and now his porter, and Charles 
 who was an hussar, and a brave soldier) to the 
 Tuilleries to endeavour to save the portrait 
 of the Dauphin by Sir Thomas Lawrence — an 
 admirable picture. His instructions as to its 
 emplacement were so correct, that the servants 
 found it instantly, but torn in pieces, and the 
 fragments strewed on the floor. 
 
 These men report that even in this feat a 
 strange mixture of the terrible and the comic was 
 exhibited, for while a dead body was placed on 
 
PARIS. 185 
 
 the throne of Charles the Tenth, some men 
 appeared in the windows of the palace attired 
 in the gold and silver tissue dresses of the 
 Duchesse de Berri, with feathers and flowers 
 in their heads, and fans in their hands, which 
 thev waved to the multitude beneath, with all 
 the coquettish airs and gi'aces of would-he-jine 
 ladies. 
 
 The busts of Charles the Tenth were broken 
 and trampled upon ; the wardi'obes of the roval 
 familv were scattered, torn, and thrown anion of 
 the people, who seemed to regard them only as 
 trophies of the victory they had achieved, and 
 not for their intrinsic value. 
 
 The palace of the Archbishop of Paris has 
 been sacked, and every object in it demolished. 
 
 told me that the ribaldry and coarse jests 
 
 of the mob on this occasion were disousting- 
 bevond measure ; and that thev ceased not to 
 utter the most obscene falsehoods, while they 
 wreaked their vengeance on the property of 
 this venerable prelate, against whom they can 
 
186 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 bring no charge, except the suspicion of Jesuit- 
 ical principles, and of having encouraged the 
 king to issue the ordonnances. 
 
 and have just been here. They 
 
 state that Charles the Tenth sent a deputation 
 to the provisional government offering to with- 
 draw the ordonnances, and to form a new 
 ministry. The offer came too late, and was 
 rejected. Concessions from the vanquished 
 are seldom valued ; and to offer terms to those 
 who are now in the position to dictate them 
 
 is as unavailing as it is undignified. and 
 
 say that the general opinion is, that if the 
 
 Duchesse de Berri was now to present herself, 
 with her son, to the people, her popularity, 
 and his youth and innocence, would accom- 
 plish an event that would satisfy most parties ; 
 namelv, the calling of the Due de Bordeaux 
 to the throne. The Duchesse de Berri has 
 courage enough to take this step ; what a 
 pity it is that she has not wisdom enough to 
 adopt it! 
 
PARIS. 187 
 
 While the fiiT^htinof was sroino' on in the 
 
 streets, and met our ambassador, 
 
 Lord Stuart de Rothesay, walking along as 
 usual. The secretaries and attaches, too, of 
 the Eno^lish embassy have been continually 
 seen in places where their presence evinced 
 more couraofe and curiosity than caution : but 
 fear is, I firmly believe, an unknown guest in 
 the breast of English gentlemen. 
 
 Comte has just been here ; he has 
 
 been to the College of St. Barbe to take charge 
 of the sons of the Due de Guiche, in order to 
 conduct them to the country ; a sendee of no 
 little danger, as all connected with the court, 
 and known to be faithful to the roval family, 
 are liable to be maltreated. How painful and 
 trying a part is the Due de Guiche now called 
 on to act : compelled to leave his wife and 
 family in a to^n in a state of sieo^e, or to 
 desert the monarch to whom he has sworn 
 fealty ! But he will perform it nobly ; and if 
 Charles the Tenth had many such men to rally 
 
188 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 round him in the present hour, his throne mioht 
 still be preserved. 
 
 The Duchesse de Guiche, in the trying 
 situation in which she finds herself, has dis- 
 played a courage worthy of olden times. The 
 devotion of her husband and self to the royal 
 family is so well known that their house has 
 been a marked one during the last three days, 
 the mob repeatedly stopping before the gate 
 uttering cries and menaces. All her friends 
 have urged her to leave Paris, and to remove 
 with her children to the country, for she would 
 not consent to seek an asylum with her grand- 
 mother or brother ; urging, as a reason, that, 
 in the absence of the Due, she felt it her duty 
 to remain, that her presence might induce the 
 household to a more strict discharge of theirs, 
 in protecting the property of the Dauphin. 
 
 and have been here, and have 
 
 told us that the provisional government were 
 installed in the Hotel de Ville, General La- 
 fayette at its head, and my old acquaintance 
 
PARIS. 189 
 
 Monsieur Alexandre de Labordc taking an 
 active part. How all this is to end I cannot 
 imagine ; the cry for a republic, though strongly 
 echoed, will, I think, he unavailing; and the 
 reasonable part of the community cannot desire 
 that it should be otherwise, inasmuch as the 
 tyranny of the many must ever be more insup- 
 portable than that of one, admitting that even 
 a despotic monarchy could, in our day, exercise 
 a tyranny which I am not disposed to admit. 
 
 The tri-coloured flag now floats on many of 
 the churches, while that of the Fleur-de-lis still 
 waves from the column in the Place Vendome, 
 on other public buildings, and the Tuilleries. 
 What a strange state of things! but every 
 thino- is strano^e in this eventful crisis. 
 
 has just been here, and reports that 
 
 yesterday a meeting of the Deputies took place 
 at the house of M. Casimir Perier, in order to 
 consult on what measures they ought to pursue 
 in the present state of affairs. He says, that 
 pusillanimity, and want of decision consequent 
 
190 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 on it, marked the conduct of the assembly. 
 They lost the time, so precious in a crisis 
 like the actual one, in disputing about words, 
 when deeds ought to have been had recourse 
 to. They are accused of being influenced by 
 a dread of offending the now tottering power, 
 lest it should once more be solidlv reinstated, 
 and yet of being anxious to remain well with 
 those opposed to it ; and they are said to have 
 temporised with both, allowing the time for 
 serving either to have passed away. 
 
 A bitter feeling towards the royal family 
 seems to pervade the minds of the populace ; 
 and this has been fomented by the most gross 
 and disgusting falsehoods dispensed around by 
 the medium of obscene brochures, and songs 
 which are sung and distributed through the 
 streets. Even now beneatTi my window two 
 men are offering, and crying aloud, the Amours 
 of the Duchesse d'Angouleme and the Arch- 
 bishop of Paris. The most spotless w^oman in 
 France and the most devout man ! The same 
 
PARIS. 191 
 
 hand that would pull down the throne w^ould 
 raze the altar ! 
 
 and have heen among the fight- 
 ing, and report wonders of the bravery of the 
 populace. They fight with an enthusiasm and 
 courasre worthv of a better cause, and have 
 evinced a humanity to their wounded adver- 
 saries that elicits admiration even from those 
 ' who are the most opposed to the cause they 
 have espoused. The citizens, and the women 
 too, have come forth fi'om the sanctuaries of 
 their dweUings to dress the wounds, and ad- 
 minister refi'eshment to the combatants, with- 
 out distinction with regard to the side on 
 which they were engaged. 
 
 This amalgamation of soldiers and people 
 has been destructive to the cause of royalty, 
 for the humanity experienced has induced the 
 former to throw do^Ti their arms rather than 
 use them ao^ainst o^enerous foes, and cries of 
 " Vive la Ligne I" are often heard from those 
 so lately opposed to it. All parties agree in 
 
192 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 stating that not a single example of pillage, 
 except in the instances of the gunsmiths' shops, 
 has occurred. Various houses have heen en- 
 tered by the people for the purpose of firing 
 from the windows ; and, having effected their 
 object, they have retired without taking a 
 single article of the many tempting ones scat- 
 tered around in these dwellings. 
 
 This revolution, if indeed the result should 
 prove it to be such, will offer a striking con- 
 trast to that fearful one that has ever since 
 left so black a stain on France, and French- 
 men. Heroic courage, great humanity, and 
 a perfect freedom from cupidity, are the pecu- 
 liar attributes that mark those w^ho are now 
 subverting the throne of the Bourbons ; what 
 a pity it is that such qualities should not have 
 found a better cause for developing themselves ! 
 
 29 ^/z. — The subject now circulated and 
 believed is, that Lafayette and his followers 
 have placed themselves at the head of the 
 people. This rumour has quieted the fears 
 
PARIS. 193 
 
 of many, for his name exercises a great 
 influence. The fighting is still going on, 
 and the report of the guns comes hooming 
 on 'the ear continually. 
 
 Hearing a noise in the street, ten minutes 
 aofo, I looked forth, and beheld some four or 
 five men covered with stains of blood, their 
 faces blackened by gunpowder, and streaming 
 with perspiration, endeavouring to draw away 
 a piece of cannon, of which they had taken 
 possession in the Champs Elysees. Hearing 
 the opening of my \^indow, they entreated me, 
 if there were any men in the house, to send 
 them to their assistance, in order to draw 
 away the gun from the reach of the enemy. 
 " And if there are no men," continued ^ the 
 speaker, **let the women come out and help 
 us in the good cause." While they yet spoke, 
 a party of soldiers were seen rushing to the 
 rescue of the gun, and its temporary con- 
 querors were compelled to make a rapid 
 retreat towards the Rue St. Honore. 
 
 VOL. II. K 
 
194 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The name of Mr. LafRtte is now mixed with 
 that of Lafayette among the crowds in the 
 streets, and has a great effect on them. His 
 vast wealth, and the frequent and extensive 
 aid it has afforded to the working classes, have 
 rendered him one of, if not the most popular 
 man in Paris ; so that those most conversant 
 with the actual state of affairs, pronounce that 
 with Lafayette and Laffitte now rest the destiny 
 of France. How strange is the alteration which 
 has occurred within so short a space of time ! 
 Five davs ao^o, Charles the Tenth reio^ned in 
 the Tuilleries ; at present, on Lafayette and 
 LafRtte it depends whether he ever enters his 
 palace again,! The tocsin is now sounding! 
 How strangely, how awfully it strikes on the 
 ear ! All this appears like a dream. 
 
 The formation of a provisional government 
 is to-day spoken of. The cry of " Vive Napo- 
 leon /" has been heard repeatedly shouted 
 from one mass of people, while " Vive la 
 repuhlique /" has been as loudly vociferated 
 
PARIS. 195 
 
 by another. Various persons connected with 
 both the royalist and popular party, have 
 been here to-day, so that I hear the opi- 
 nions entertained by the adherents of both 
 sides of the question. Which to credit I know 
 not : there is but one point on which both 
 agree, and that is in praising the bravery and 
 forbearance of the people. 
 
 When I look around on the precious objects 
 that cover the tables, consoles, and cabinets in 
 the salon where I am now wTiting, and reflect 
 that these same people are not only in arms, 
 but I may say masters of the town, I cannot 
 help wondering at their total avoidance of pil- 
 laofe when such rich booties mio-ht be so 
 easily acquired. Perhaps there is no European 
 city in which so many and such splendid col- 
 lections of rare and precious articles are to be 
 found, as at Paris. In England, our nobility 
 possess equal treasures, but they are contained 
 in their country seats ; whereas it is in the 
 Parisian dwellings of the French noblesse, that 
 
196 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 their valuable possessions of rare objects are 
 to be found, and at the present crisis, how 
 soon could an armed mass seize them ! 
 
 28^A. — The Duchesse de Guiche was ex- 
 posed to considerable Hanger to-day, and 
 evinced a courage nearly allied to temerity 
 in speaking her sentiments on the occasion. 
 Alarmed for the safety of her eldest son, she 
 was proceeding to his college in search of him, 
 when she was stopped by a vast crowd of 
 people assembled around the house of one of 
 the tradespeople of the royal family, over 
 whose door were the arms of France. 
 
 The frightened tradesman was in the act of 
 removing this badge, of which only a few days 
 previously he had been so proud, when the 
 duchesse, seeing him so employed, remarked 
 aloud, that " after having so often solicited per- 
 mission to place the royal arms over his door, 
 he ouo-ht to have had the courage to defend 
 them.'* The populace, enraged at this reproof, 
 hissed and yelled ; but seeing that she remained 
 
PARIS. 197 
 
 immoved, the greater number cheered her, ex- 
 claiminof " that vounof woman is as courao^eous 
 as she is beautiful ; let us shew her that we 
 know how to value courage, and protect her to 
 her home." They placed themselves around 
 her, and with every mark of respect, escorted 
 her, to the gate of her dwelling. 
 
 A person among the crowd who witnessed 
 this incident, told me that never had he seen 
 the Duchesse de Guiche look so dazzlingly 
 beautiful, as when she was reproving the 
 tradesman — her tall and majestic figure ele- 
 vated even above its usual height by the indig- 
 nation she experienced at the insult offered to 
 the royal family, to whom in these their days 
 of trial, she is even more chivalrously devoted 
 than when they reigned with undisputed sway, 
 and thousands of those who now desert, pro- 
 fessed to worship them. 
 
 Before the duchesse regained her abode, she 
 encountered several skirmishing parties in the 
 streets who w^ere absolutely fighting, and pro- 
 bably owed her safety to the protection afforded 
 
198 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 her by those whom her courage had won to he 
 her champions. 
 
 The inteUigence reached us two hours ago, 
 that the populace had attacked the hotel of the 
 Due de Guiche, and placed two pieces of 
 cannon before the gate. My terror may more 
 easily be imagined than described, for the 
 duchesse and her youngest children are in the 
 house, and the due is with the royal family. I 
 hardly knew whether to be thankful or sorry, 
 that her brother Count Alfred d'Orsay was 
 not at home when this news reached us, for he 
 would certainly have proceeded to her house, 
 and would probably have, by his presence and 
 interference, rendered her danger still greater. 
 
 Fearful of compromising the safety of her 
 children, the duchesse left the hotel by another 
 gate, opening into the Rue de Montaigne, and 
 is, 1 trust, ere this, safe on her route to St. 
 Germain, where her father-in-law, the Due 
 de Gramont, has a residence. 
 
 How like a troubled dream all this appears ! 
 Would that it were but a dream, and that 
 
PARIS. 199 
 
 those whom I so much love, were not exposed 
 to pav dearly for their fidelity to a sovereign, 
 whose measures their enlightened minds are 
 the last to approve, but whose misfortunes, if 
 they cannot ameliorate, they will at least 
 share ! 
 
 I know not a more painful position than 
 that of the Due and Duchesse de Guiche, at 
 the present moment. With highly cultivated 
 minds and liberal opinions, possessing a know- 
 ledge of the world, and of the actual state of 
 public opinion in France, they must be aware 
 of the utter hopelessness of the cause in which 
 they find themselves embarked, yet such is 
 their chivalrous sentiments of honour, that 
 they will sacrifice every thing rather than 
 abandon those whose prosperity they have par- 
 taken, and thus incur all the penalty of the 
 acts of a government whose policy they did 
 not approve. Had Charles the Tenth many 
 such devoted adherents, he would not find 
 himself deserted in his hour of need. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 I HAVE but just returned from the Rue 
 d'Anjou, and now that I find myself once 
 more within the sanctuary of my home, I am 
 surprised at my own courage in having ven- 
 tured to pass through the streets, and alone, 
 too, at such a moment. I do not think I 
 should have risked it, had I not known how- 
 much my excellent friend Madame C 
 
 stood in need of consolation, after having seen 
 her grandchildren and great-grandchildren 
 driven from their late peaceful and happy 
 dwelling, uncertain when she may behold them 
 ao^ain, as thev have determined on not forsak- 
 ing the royal family. 
 
 I had ascended nearly to the top of the 
 barricade at the entrance to the Rue Verte 
 
PARIS. 201 
 
 • 
 
 when a head and shoulders rose from the 
 opposite side so suddenly as to alarm me not 
 a little. My trepidation was infinitely in- 
 creased when I discovered that the individual 
 to whom the said head and shoulders apper- 
 tained, was in a state of extreme intoxication, 
 and when with rolling eyes, flushed cheeks, 
 and thick articulation he addressed me with a 
 familiarity, yet good nature, that I would most 
 willingly have dispensed with. 
 
 " Give me your hand, ma belle, fear no- 
 thing, I am one of the hons enfans of the 
 revolution, take my arm and no one will molest 
 you. We les braves, des braves, wag^ no war 
 against women ; au contraire, we love the 
 pretty creatures. Here take my hand, and 
 I will assist you over the barricades." 
 
 Suiting his action to the word, he extended 
 his hand towards me, and reaching forward 
 lost his equilibrium and rolled over ; at which 
 moment, the proprietor of a wine shop at the 
 corner of the Rue Verte came to my assistance, 
 and leading me through his house, opened a 
 
 K 2 
 
202 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 door on the other side of the barricade, 
 through which I hastily passed, he civilly 
 offering to open the same door when I re- 
 turned if I would knock at it. And here, en 
 passant, let me render justice to the politeness 
 I have invariably experienced from all classes 
 of men, and on all occasions, in France — a 
 politeness so general that I should be ungrate- 
 ful if I did not record it. 
 
 When I passed the barrack in the Rue 
 Verte, it was in the possession of the people, 
 who had seized it by the right of conquest an 
 hour or two previously. Proud of the achieve- 
 ment, they were looking out of the windows, 
 shouting, singing the Marseillaise, embracing 
 each other, and proclaiming that they were 
 les hons enfans, &c. They paid me many 
 homely compliments as I passed, but not a 
 single indelicate allusion escaped their lips ; 
 and I hurried on, not meeting a human being 
 until I entered the courtyard of Madame 
 
 C 's hotel, into which I found considerable 
 
 difficulty to penetrate, owing to the extreme 
 
PARIS. 203 
 
 caution of lier Swiss porter who seemed to 
 think it very dangerous to open even the little 
 door to admit me. 
 
 I found dear, good Madame C de- 
 pressed and agitated. I rejoiced to find that 
 she was ignorant of the scene that took place 
 between her grand-daughter and the populace, 
 for a knowledo^e of it would have served to 
 increase her alarm. She was surrounded by 
 the usual circle of habitues, who endeavoured 
 in vain to calm her fears, but my presence 
 re-assured her a little, and Count Valeski, who 
 came in soon after, succeeded in mitigating 
 her terror. Having witnessed the horrors of 
 the former revolution, it is no wonder she 
 should tremble at the thoughts of another, and 
 she looks on my calmness and courage as little 
 short of heroism. 
 
 I remained a couple of hours with her, and 
 having resisted all her persuasions to induce 
 me to stay all night, I left the Rue d'Anjou, 
 and had reached the Rue Verte, when I heard 
 the report of guns, and saw a party of soldiers 
 
204 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 attacking the barracks, out of the windows of 
 which the people, who had taken forcible 
 possession of it some hours before, were firing 
 on their assailants. I retraced my steps as 
 hastily as possible, fear lending swiftness to 
 my feet, and returned to the Rue de Matignon 
 bv the Faubourg du Roule and the Rue St. 
 Honore. Our trusty porter, having heard the 
 shots, and knowing they proceeded from the 
 quartier through which my route lay, was 
 much alarmed for my safety, and evinced great 
 pleasure when he saw me safe again within the 
 portal under his charge, while I congratulated 
 myself on having once more proved my friend- 
 ship to my dear old friend, by a personal 
 exertion entailing no more disagreeable con- 
 sequences than a temporary alarm. 
 
 and have just been here : they 
 
 say that it is reported that a negotiation has 
 been opened between the king and the pro- 
 visional orovernment, and that even still a 
 reconciliation mav be effected. I do not be- 
 lieve it, though I wish it were true. The 
 
PARIS. 205 
 
 blood that has flowed during the last days has, 
 I fear, created an impassable gulf between 
 the sovereign and the people. Each party has 
 made discoveries fatal to the o^ood understand- 
 ing necessary to subsist between both : one 
 having proved his want of power to carry his 
 wishes into efi^ect, and the other having but 
 too well evinced its powers of resistance. 
 
 While the negotiations are pending, the 
 royal cause becomes every hour more hopeless. 
 Success has rendered the people less tractable ; 
 and the concession implied by the king's hold- 
 ing out terms to them, has less chance of 
 producing a favourable result. 
 
 The populace attempted to force an entrance 
 into the courtyard of the Hotel des Pages, 
 and, having fired through the iron gate, killed 
 a fine youth, the son of General Jacquinot, 
 one of the royal pages, and a protege of the 
 Due de Guiche. It was of this general that 
 the Emperor Napoleon said — " Celui Id est 
 brave tous les jours, en mon absence comme 
 sous mes yeux,^^ It is not more than ten days 
 
206 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ago, since I met the mother and sister of this 
 promising youth with him at the Duchesse de 
 Guiche's. They came to return thanks to her 
 and the due for the generous protection they 
 had afforded to him ; they were elate with joy 
 at his promotion, looked forward to his fur- 
 ther advancement, and now . My heart 
 
 bleeds for the poor mother who doted on her 
 son ! 
 
 Count Alfred d'Orsay, having heard that 
 he had no relations in Paris at this moment, 
 has gone to arrange for the interment of this 
 poor youth, who yet scarcely more than a child, 
 has lost his life at hut a short distance from 
 the threshold of that door where he had been 
 so often received with kindness. How glad 
 I am that the duchesse was spared the horror 
 of being so near the scene of this murder, and 
 that she and her children are safe from the 
 reach of personal violence ! 
 
 The interesting countenance of this fine 
 youth, as I lately saw it, haunts me. Beaming 
 with affection towards his mother and sister, 
 
PARIS. 207 
 
 and with gratitude towards his friends, it was 
 pleasant to behold it; and now, — how fear- 
 ful is the change produced in so brief a space ! 
 That bereaved mother and fond sister will 
 never more look on that face so dear ; — before 
 the fatal intelligence can have reached them, 
 he will have been consigned to the grave, and 
 will owe to a stranger those last rites which 
 they little dream are now performing. 
 
 The number of persons killed during the 
 last three days has excited much less interest 
 in my feehngs than the death of this poor 
 youth. I cannot picture to my mind's eye any 
 other distinct image among the slain. They 
 present only a ghastly mass, with all the re- 
 volting accompaniments of gaping w^ounds and 
 blood-stained garments. I never saw them in 
 life, — knew not the faces that will be steeped in 
 tears, or convulsed in agony at their deaths ; 
 but this poor boy, so young, so fair, and so 
 beloved, and his fond mother and gentle sister 
 seem ever to stand before me ! 
 
208 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 I remember reading, long years ago, the 
 example given of a person recounting all the 
 details of a great battle, in which hundreds 
 were slain, and the listeners hearing the 
 account unmoved, until the relater described 
 one individual who had been killed, and 
 drew a vivid picture, when those who had 
 heard of the death of hundreds without any 
 deeper emotion than general pity, were melted 
 to tears. This is my case, with regard to 
 the poor young page, cut off in the morning 
 of his life ; for, having his image present to 
 my mind, his death seems more grievous to 
 me than that of hundreds whom I have never 
 seen. 
 
 30th, — The last news is, that the Dauphin 
 has been named Generalissimo, that he has 
 placed himself at the head of the vast body 
 of troops that still adhere to their allegiance, 
 and that he is to advance on Paris. This 
 determination has been adopted too late, and 
 can now, in my opinion, avail but little. 
 
PARIS. 209 
 
 Comte d'O has just returned from 
 
 seeing the last sad duties paid to the remains 
 of the poor young page. He brings the in- 
 telligence that the royal family left St. Cloud 
 last nio^ht, and are now at Versailles. This 
 step proves that they consider their case 
 hopeless. Unhappy Bourbons ! a fatality 
 seems to impend over the race ; and Charles 
 the Tenth appears doomed to die, as he has 
 lived the gi'eater portion of his life, in exile. 
 The absence of the Dauphine at this eventful 
 period has been peculiarly unfortunate for 
 her familv ; for, with her firmness of cha- 
 racter and promptitude of decision, her counsel 
 might have served, while her presence would 
 have given an impetus to, their cause. 
 
 I have just seen , who told me, that 
 
 on the King's departure for Versailles he left 
 the Dauphin in command of the troops that 
 still adhered to their allegiance, and that the 
 Prince placed himself at the head of a battalion 
 of the garde royale^ charged the enemy on the 
 
^10 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Pont de Sevres, and took possession of it ; but 
 the troops, with the exception of a few officers, 
 refused to follow, and left him to receive the 
 fire of the insurgents, which it is wonderful 
 that he escaped. With what feelings must 
 he have bent his course to Versailles, deserted 
 by troops on whom he had bestowed so many 
 favours and acts of munificence, to meet his 
 sovereioTi and father, with the sad news of 
 their revolt ! 
 
 I have just had the gratifying intelligence 
 that the Duchesse de Guiche and her children 
 reached St. Germain's in safety. This is a 
 great relief to my mind. The royal arms on the 
 carriage, and the liveries, were recognised at 
 the Barriere, and the populace crowded around, 
 many of them expressing their dissatisfaction 
 at beholding these memorials of a family so 
 lately respected, if not beloved. It had been 
 represented to the Duchesse, previously to 
 her leaving Paris, that she ran no inconsider- 
 able risk in venturing out with the royal 
 
PARIS. 211 
 
 arms on her carriage ; * but she declared that 
 she would not consent to their beinof eflPaced. 
 She courao^eously, and with a calm diofnitv, 
 addressed the angr)- crowd, explained her 
 sentiments and feelings to them in a few brief 
 words, and they, won by her beauty and 
 noble bearing, even perhaps still more than 
 by her courage (though intrepidity has always 
 a peculiar charm for Frenchmen), cheered 
 her, and suffered the carriage to proceed 
 unmolested. 
 
 July 30fh, — I am again alarmed for the safety 
 of the Duchesse de Guiche. The populace hav- 
 ing yesterday assembled at the Place St. Ger- 
 main, in which is the residence of her father-in- 
 law, the Due de Gramont, they evinced so hos- 
 tile a feeling towards all attached to the royal 
 family, that a friend, becoming apprehensive 
 of ^dolence, scaled the wall of the garden, and 
 
 * The Due de Guiche, being premier menin to the 
 Dauphin, used, according to custom, the arms and liveries 
 of that prince. 
 
212 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 entering the house, implored the Duchesse, 
 ere it was yet too late, to seek safety by 
 flight. 
 
 Alarmed for her children — for this noble- 
 minded woman is a stranger to personal fear — 
 she sought refuge with them in the Forest 
 of St. Germain, in the Chateau du Val, 
 the abode of the Princesse de Poix, where 
 she experiences all the kindness and hos- 
 pitality which her amiable hostess can practise, 
 in order to soothe the anxiety of her guest. 
 
 What a change in the position of the 
 Duchesse, and in so brief a space ! A fugitive 
 in that forest where, every year during the 
 Fete des Loges, she dispensed kindness to 
 the poor, and amiability to all, doing the 
 honours of the Due de Gramont's house, 
 where her condescension and goodness were 
 the themes of every tongue ! And now, 
 harassed in mind and body, terrified for the 
 safety of her husband, who is with the royal 
 family, and for her two eldest sons, who are 
 
PARIS. 213 
 
 in their college, in the Rue St. Marceau, 
 which is rendered inaccessible, owing to the 
 barricades. 
 
 31^^. — Lafayette is now said to be the 
 oracle of the provisional government, and 
 the idol of the populace. Advanced far in 
 the vale of life, his enero^ies and vio^our are 
 gone, and his najiie serves the party more 
 than his counsel can ; for with the republicans, 
 at least, it is a Guarantee for honest motives. 
 AMiat a strange destiny has his been — called 
 on to perform so conspicuous a part in two 
 revolutions ! 
 
 has just been here, and announced 
 
 that the Due d' Orleans is named Lieutenant- 
 general of France. It is asserted, that this 
 appointment has been effected by the influence 
 of General Lafayette over the provisional 
 government ; but how little in accordance is 
 this measure with the well-kno\vTi Utopian 
 scheme of a republic, which has for years been 
 the favourite dream of this venerable visionarj' .^ 
 
214 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 August 1st now has brought the 
 
 intelligence that Charles the Tenth has nomi- 
 nated the Due d' Orleans Lieutenant-general, 
 so that his Royal Highness has been chosen 
 by both sides — a flattering proof of the con- 
 fidence reposed in him by each. Were he 
 ambitious, here is an opportunity of indulging 
 this " infirmity of noble minds," though at 
 the expense of the elder branch of his family ; 
 but he will not, I am sure, betray the trust 
 they have confided to him. Order seems now 
 to be in a great measure restored ; the people 
 appear in good-humour ; but there is a con- 
 sciousness of power evident in their hilarity 
 that too forcibly reminds one of their 
 victory. 
 
 The Due of Orleans has been to the Hotel 
 de Ville, where he presented himself to the 
 people from the balcony ; embraced General 
 Lafayette, who stood by his side ; and was 
 applauded with enthusiasm by the immense 
 multitude who witnessed the accolade. 
 
PARIS. 215 
 
 Q,d, — The news of the day is, that 
 Charles the Tenth has abdicated the crown in 
 favour of the Due de Bordeaux, who is now 
 styled Henri V. This act might, four or 
 five days ago, have produced some salutary 
 effect; but it nov\^ comes too late — at least, 
 so think those who profess to know more on 
 the subject than I do. The position of the 
 Lieutenant-general, in this case, reminds me 
 of that of a confidante in a quarrel between 
 lovers, in which the interest of the absent 
 is too often sacrificed, owing to the danger- 
 ous opportunity furnished for forwarding that 
 of the supposed friend. 
 
 Sd, — Ao^ain, considerable excitement has 
 prevailed in the town, produced by the pro- 
 clamation, that the dethroned sovereign had 
 determined to take up his position, with the 
 stronof militarv force that still adheres to 
 him, at Rambouillet. The publicity given 
 to this news was a very injudicious measm-e, 
 if conciliation, or even forbearance to the 
 deposed family, was desired. 
 
216 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 The populace, that many-headed monster, 
 only seen ahroad when evil passions dictate 
 violence, again rush through the streets, 
 hreathing vengeance against the poor old 
 man, (whose grey hairs, more exposed hy the 
 absence of the crown his ci-devant subjects 
 have wrested from his head, should have 
 claimed more respect at their hands.) Truly 
 has the poet said, 
 
 " He who has worn a crown, 
 When less than king is less than other men ; — 
 A fallen star, extinguish'd, leaving blank 
 Its place in heaven." 
 
 This fickle people, or, at least, the dregs 
 of them, for it would be unjust to confound 
 all in their enormities, will efface the credit 
 they have gained by the forbearance from 
 crime that has as yet characterised this re- 
 volution, by some act of brutality towards 
 the royal family. But even the very dregs 
 of the people have not appeared desirous to 
 
PARIS. 217 
 
 adopt any such course, until excited into it 
 by the wicked rumours set afloat, that Charles 
 the Tenth had carried off* all the crown jewels — 
 a rumour peculiarly calculated to excite their 
 ire and meet a ready credence, each indi- 
 vidual of the motley train looking on himself 
 as having an interest in these national riches, 
 and judging from self, of the possibility — nay, 
 more, probability, of so vile an action. How^ 
 little can such minds identify themselves with 
 the feelings of those who, sated mth the gew- 
 gaws and trappings of grandeur, forget them 
 in the deep, the powerful excitement of be- 
 holdinof a throne crumblino^ into ruin beneath 
 them — a diadem rudely torn from their brows 
 — the power they T\ielded, even that of doing 
 good, wrested violently, with the sceptre, from 
 their hands; and more than all, behold the 
 loved, the trusted — those on whom they 
 had show^ered benefits with prodigality, turn 
 from them in their hour of need and join 
 their foes ! 
 
 VOL. II. L 
 
218 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 "If thou canst hate, as, oh ! that soul must hate 
 Which loves the virtuous and reveres the great ; 
 If thou canst loathe and execrate with me 
 That gallic garbage of philosophy, — 
 That nauseous slaver of these frantic times, 
 With which false liberty dilutes her crimes ; 
 If thou hast got within thy free-born breast 
 One pulse that beats more proudly than the rest 
 With honest scorn for that inglorious soul 
 Which creeps and winds beneath a mob's control, 
 Which courts the rabble's smile, the rabble's nod, 
 And makes, like Egypt, every beast its God ! " 
 
 August 4^th. — The Kinghas left Rambouillet, 
 alarmed by the report of the approach of the 
 vast multitude who had left, or were leaving, 
 Paris, with hostile intentions towards the 
 royal family. The scenes that took place then, 
 previously to his departure, are represented as 
 being most aflPecting. 
 
 An old man, overpowered by mental and 
 bodily sufferings, remembering the terrible 
 days of a former revolution, brought with 
 a fearful vividness to his mind by the ap- 
 
PARIS. 219 
 
 palling change effected within the last few 
 eventful days, he had lost aU presence of 
 mind, and with it his confidence in those 
 whom he mif^ht have safelv trusted, while 
 he yielded it to those whose interests were 
 whoUy opposed to his. Xor is the deplorable 
 effect produced on his mind by recent events 
 to be wondered at. 
 
 Adversity is the only school in which 
 monarchs can acquire T\'isdom, and it almost 
 always comes too late to enable them to profit 
 by its bitter lessons. The defection of those 
 hitherto supposed to be devoted friends, the 
 altered looks of faces never before beheld 
 without being dressed in smiles, the uncere- 
 moniousness of courtiers who never previously 
 had dared to have an opinion before royalty 
 had decided what it should be, might well 
 have shook firmer nerves, and touched a 
 sterner heart, than belonged to the old, grey- 
 headed monarch, who saw himself betrayed 
 without comprehending by whom, and who 
 
220 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 used his authority as sovereign and father, 
 over his religiously obedient son, to extort 
 an abdication of his right, as well as an ap- 
 proval of the resignation of his own. 
 
 Like another Lear, this poor old man has 
 been driven forth " to bide the pelting of the 
 pitiless storm" of a revolution, followed by his ' 
 widowed daughter-in-law and her helpless son, 
 that child orphaned ere yet he saw the light, 
 and by Frenchmen who now condemn him to 
 exile ! 
 
 They have taken the route to Cherbourg, 
 there to embark ; and of those who lately bent 
 the knee before them, how few have followed 
 their now gloomy fortunes ! One, at least, 
 has not left, and will not forsake them. The 
 Due de Guiche, the kindest husband and 
 father perhaps in France, sacrifices his feelings 
 of domestic affection to his sense of duty, and 
 accompanies the exiled family ! 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 August 5th. — There are rumours to-day that 
 the son of the Emperor Napoleon ^vill be called 
 to fill the vacant throne. This seems to me to 
 be very improbable, when I reflect that General 
 Lafayette, whose influence is omnipotent at pre- 
 sent, appears wholly devoted to the Due 
 d' Orleans. The minds of the people are as yet 
 wholly unsettled; a dread of how their late 
 exploits may be looked on by the foreign 
 powers allied to the deposed sovereign, per- 
 vades the multitude, and the republicans begin 
 to discover that their Utopian schemes are 
 little likely to be advanced by the revolution 
 efi'ected. 
 
 1 was forcibly struck this morning on read- 
 
^22 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ing, in an Italian writer, the following passage, 
 which is strongly applicable to the present time : 
 " When a revolution is ripe, men are always 
 found who are ready to commence it, and make 
 their bodies the steps to the throne of him who 
 is to profit by their labours, without having 
 shared their dangers." I have a presentiment 
 that the truth of this axiom will be verified 
 in France. 
 
 August 6th, — Reports are now afloat that 
 the crown of France has been off'ered to the 
 Duke of Orleans, but that the offer was not 
 unanimous, and that consequently he has not 
 accepted it. Other rumours state, that if he 
 should be induced to do so, it will only be to 
 hold it as a sacred deposit to be restored to 
 the rightful owner when, with safety to both 
 parties, it can be transferred. Should this be 
 the case, then will the Duke of Orleans deserve 
 well of the elder branch of his family who have 
 behaved so kindly towards him, but I confess I 
 am not one of those who believe in the like- 
 
PARIS. 223 
 
 lihood of such an abnegation of self, as this 
 voluntary abdication would display. 
 
 Rich possessions are seldom if ever willingly 
 resigned, and a crown is one said to have such 
 irresistible charms to the person who has once 
 w orn it, that history furnishes but few examples 
 like that of Charles the Fifth, or Christina of 
 Sweden. Time will prove whether Louis Phi- 
 lippe d'Orleans will offer a pendant ! 
 
 I walked with Comte d'O this eveninof 
 
 into the Champ Elysees, and great was the 
 change effected there within the last few days. 
 It looks ruined and desolate, the ground cut 
 up by the pieces of cannon, and troops as well 
 as the mobs that have made it a thoroughfare, 
 and many of the trees greatly injured, if not 
 destroyed. 
 
 A crowd was assembled around a man who 
 was reading aloud for their edification a pro- 
 clamation nailed to one of the trees. We 
 paused for a moment to hear it, when some of 
 the persons recognising my companion, shouted 
 
224 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 aloud, " Vive le Comte (F Or say I Vive le 
 Comte d'OrsaijV^ and the cry being taken up 
 by the mass, the reader was deserted, the fickle 
 multitude directing all their attention and 
 enthusiasm to the new comer. We had some 
 difficulty in escaping from these troublesome 
 and unexpected demonstrations of good will \ 
 and, while hurrying from the scene of this 
 impromptu ovation to the unsought popularity 
 of my companion, I made him smile by hinting 
 at the danger in which he stood of being raised 
 to the vacant throne by those who seem not to 
 know or care who is to fill it. 
 
 Comte d'O was as much puzzled as I 
 
 was how to account for this burst of enthusiasm, 
 for, taking no part in politics, and all his 
 family being attached to the legitimate cause, 
 this demonstration of regard appears more 
 inexplicable. It seems, however, to establish 
 one fact, and that is, that though the monarch 
 has fallen into disrepute with the people, the 
 aristocracy have not, and this alone proves 
 
PARIS. 225 
 
 how totally different are the feelings of those 
 who have effected the present revolution with 
 those of the persons who were engaged in the 
 former one, a difference, perhaps, not more to 
 he attributed to the change produced in the 
 people by the extension of education, than in 
 the noblesse by the same cause, aided by the 
 habits and feelings it engenders. Whatever 
 may be the cause, the effect is salutary, for the 
 good understanding e\ident between the two 
 classes tends greatly to the amelioration and 
 advantage of both. There is something very 
 contagious in popular feeling. It resembles 
 an epidemic from which few of the class more 
 peculiarly exposed to it escape. 
 
 Walked into the streets to-day, for a car- 
 riage cannot yet pass through them. Never 
 did anv toTvn, not actually sacked, present a 
 more changed aspect. Houses damaged by 
 shots, windows smashed, pavements destroyed, 
 and trees cut dowTi or mutilated, meet the eye 
 along the Boulevards. The destruction of the 
 
 l2 
 
226 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 trees excited more regret in my mind than 
 that of the houses. There, many of them lay 
 on the ground shorn of their leafy honours, 
 offering obstructions on the spots which they 
 so lately ornamented, while others stood bare 
 and desolate, their giant limbs lopped off, their 
 trunks shattered by bullets, and retaining only 
 a few slight branches on high, to which still 
 adhered the parched, discoloured, and withered 
 leaves, sole remnants of their lately luxuriant 
 foliage. 
 
 The houses may be rebuilt and the streets 
 newly paved, but how many years will it take 
 before these trees can be replaced ! Those 
 who loved to repose beneath their shade, or 
 who, pent in a city, w^ere solaced by beholding 
 them and thinking of the country of which 
 they brought pleasant recollections, will grieve 
 to miss them, and, like me, own with a sigh, 
 w^hile contemplating the ravages occasioned by 
 the events of the last few days, that if good 
 ever is effected by that most dangerous of all 
 
PARIS. 227 
 
 experiments, a revolution, it is too dearly 
 bought. 
 
 The people seem as proud and pleased as 
 possible with the accomplishment of the task 
 they took in hand. How long will they con- 
 tinue so ? They are like a too-spirited horse 
 who, having mastered his rider, requires a 
 bolder and more expert hand to subjugate him 
 again to obedience, and the training will be all 
 the more painful from the previous insubordina- 
 tion. Of one thing the people may be proud, 
 and that is, their having not stained this revo- 
 lution with any of the crimes that have left so 
 indelible a blot on the former one. 
 
 How soon does the mind habituate itself to 
 an unnatural state of excitement ! My femme 
 de chamhre positively looked blank and dis- 
 appointed this morning, when, on entering my 
 chamhre a coucher, she answered in reply to my 
 question, whether any thing new had occurred 
 during the night, " Non^ miladi, positivement 
 rienJ' Strange to say, I too felt desoeuvre by 
 
^28 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 the want of having something to he alarmed or 
 to hope about, — I, who meddle not with politics, 
 and wish all the world to he as quiet and as calm 
 as myself. Every one I see appears to experi- 
 ence this same flatness, just like the reaction 
 produced on the spirits the first day or two 
 after the Italian Carnival, when the cessation 
 of gaiety, though felt to he a relief to the 
 frame, leaves the mind unfitted for repose. 
 
 I find this feeling is generally experienced, 
 for several of the shgp-keepers, whose profit, — 
 nay, whose very bread, depends on the restora- 
 tion of social order, confess it. One person, 
 the wife of a jeweller, owned to me to-day that 
 Paris was now beginning to be very triste. 
 
 "To be sure they were no longer afraid to 
 open their shops, and commerce they hoped 
 would soon become active again, but there was 
 no more the same interest continually awakened, 
 as when every hour, — nay, every minute brought 
 some new event, and she and her neighbours 
 looked out to behold the fighting in the streets, 
 
PARIS. 2^9 
 
 the wounded and the dying dropping around, 
 and trembled for their o^vn lives, and for the 
 safety of those dear to them." In short, as she 
 admitted, the want of excitement was experi- 
 enced by all those who had lately become 
 accustomed to it, as much as it is felt by the 
 habitual gamester who cannot liye T\'ithout 
 play. 
 
 This is a dangerous state for the people of a 
 great city to find themselyes in. Vastly more 
 dangerous than if subdued by a long-continued 
 excess of excitement, their moral as well as 
 their physical force required repose, and they 
 gladly resigned themselyes to it. 
 
 To a sober-minded denizen of England, the 
 ungoyernable pride, insatiable yanity, and loye 
 of fighting, inherent in the French, appear 
 really little short of insanity, to so gi'eat an 
 excess do they push these manias. This will 
 always render them so difficult to be governed, 
 that it ^vli\. require no ordinaiy abilities and 
 firmness in him who undertakes the arduous 
 
230 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 task of ruling them. Yet the very excess of 
 these passions renders the French the most 
 able, as they decidedly are the most willing, 
 instruments to be employed in achieving the 
 aims of the wildest ambition, or the most glo- 
 rious enterprises. He will the longest and 
 most securely govern them, who calls these 
 passions into action, provided always that they 
 meet no check, for the French not only bear 
 adversity impatiently, but soon turn against 
 him who has exposed them to it : witness their 
 conduct to the Emperor Napoleon, who, while 
 success crowned his banner, was their idol. 
 
 Playing at soldiers is the favourite game of 
 Frenchmen of every class and description, and 
 every opportunity afforded them of indulging it 
 is gladly seized. When I compare the reluc- 
 tance with which the yeomanry of Ireland, or 
 the local militia of England, leave their homes 
 and their business to " assume the spear and 
 shield," with the enthusiasm evinced by the 
 Garde Nationah when they are called to 
 
PARIS. 
 
 231 
 
 leave their boutiques and don their uniforms, 
 I am more than ever struck with the remark- 
 able difference existing between two nations 
 separated by so short a distance. The English 
 local militia man will fight when occasion re- 
 quires, and with determined courage, too, be- 
 cause he believes it to be his duty, but the 
 French National Guard will combat for the mere 
 love of combating, and forget home and interest 
 in the pleasure of the excitement. 
 
 The Duchesse de Guiche has returned to 
 Paris, while her amiable and noble-minded 
 husband has accompanied the royal family 
 to Cherbourg, where they are to embark for 
 Endand. Nothino^ can exceed the courage 
 and dignity with which she supports her 
 altered fortunes. She thinks only of those 
 to whom the Due and herself have been so 
 lono- and so trulv devoted : and in her chagrin 
 for their sufferings forgets her own. 
 
 The Due has such a perfect confidence in 
 her o[ood sense and tact, that he has sent her 
 
232 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 his procuration to act for him in his absence. 
 No sooner had she arrived at her abode, than 
 she sent to demand the protection of General 
 Gerard* for the house and stables of the Dau- 
 phin, and he immediately ordered a guard to 
 be placed there. Heaven grant that she may 
 not be exposed to any annoyance during the 
 absence of her husband ! 
 
 The Duchesse de Guiche gave a new proof 
 of her courage and presence of mind yester- 
 day. Early in the morning, having heard a 
 noise in the courtyard of her dwelling, she 
 beheld from the window of her chamber an 
 officer gesticulating w^ith violence, and me- 
 nacing the grooms of the Dauphin. The 
 upper servant entered at the moment, and 
 announced that the officer insisted on seizing 
 six of the finest horses in the stable, by order 
 of General Lafavette. 
 
 The Duchesse descended to the courtyard, 
 
 * Now Marechal. 
 
PARIS. "^33 
 
 informed the officer that the whole establish- 
 ment was under the protection of General 
 Gerard, without whose orders no horse should 
 leave the stables. He attempted to enforce 
 his pretensions ; but the Duchesse desired 
 the head groom to call out his assistants, 
 about thirty in number, who, armed with 
 pitchforks and other implements of their 
 calling, soon came forth ; and the Duchesse 
 assured the intruder that, unless he imme- 
 diately retired, he should be forcibly ex- 
 pelled. 
 
 Seeing the courage and determination of 
 this high-spirited and beautiful woman, the 
 officer withdrew, and the horses were saved. 
 It has since been ascertained, as the Duchesse 
 anticipated, that General Lafayette had never 
 given any orders to the officer who had used 
 his name. 
 
 jth^ — The Duke of Orleans has at length 
 accepted the crown ; and various are the con- 
 jectures and reports to which his doing so 
 
^34f THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 has given rise. Many of them, as may be 
 easily imagined, are not creditable to him ; but 
 on this occasion, as on most others, the least 
 charitable motives are generally assigned to 
 those whose conduct is judged by the mass 
 often wholly ignorant of the reasons on which 
 it is based. The vast wealth of the Duke of 
 Orleans has a powerful influence ; and those 
 who a few days ago exclaimed against royalty, 
 and vaunted the superior advantages of a 
 government without a king, are now reconciled 
 to having one whose immense private fortune 
 will exempt the nation from the necessity of 
 furnishino: funds for a civil list. Should the 
 new sovereign hereafter demand one, his popu- 
 larity will be endangered ; and the King of the 
 French, as he is styled, Tvill be likely to find 
 as little favour in the eyes of his subjects as 
 the King of France experienced. 
 
 Popularity, always, and in all countries, an 
 unstable possession, is in France infinitely 
 more so ; and Louis Philippe must have more 
 
PARIS. QS5 
 
 luck, as well as more wisdom, than falls to the 
 lot of mankind, to retain this fleeting good 
 when the novelty of his reioni has worn awav. 
 That he is a man of great ahility no one 
 seems to entertain a doubt ; but his wisdom 
 would, in my opinion at least, have been 
 more surely manifested had he declined in- 
 stead of accepting the cro^n. 
 
 Those who profess to be best acquainted 
 with his sentiments declare, that he only 
 acceded to the ^^dshes of the people in as- 
 cending the vacant throne, in order to 
 preserve the charter, and to preclude the 
 dangerous theoretical experiments into which 
 the republican party was so desirous to plunge. 
 It remains to be proved whether, in a few 
 years hence, those who have subverted one 
 monarchy by violence may not be tempted 
 to have recourse to a similar measure in order 
 to free themselves from the successor they 
 have chosen ; for even already it appears 
 clear to me, that the expectations enter- 
 
236 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 tained, not only by the partisans of Louis 
 Philippe, but by the generality of the people, 
 are such as he never can fulfil. He may be 
 their idol for a brief space, but, like all other 
 idols, he will be expected to perform miracles ; 
 and not having the sanctity with which time 
 invests even false gods^ he may be thrown from 
 the pedestal to which he has been elevated 
 as unceremoniously as he was raised to it. 
 
 I saw General Lafayette to-day, and never 
 felt more disappointed, as his appearance 
 does not at all correspond with what I had 
 imagined it to be. The " Lafayette aux cheveux 
 hlancs^^ as the popular song describes him to 
 be, is, au contraire, a plain old man, with a 
 dark brown scratch wig, that conceals his 
 forehead, and, consequently, gives a very 
 common and, to my thinking, a disagreeable 
 expression to his countenance. The cheveux 
 hlancs would be a great improvement ; for, 
 independently of the song thus describing him, 
 one looks for the venerable mark of age in 
 
PARIS. 237 
 
 this Nestor of revolutions, who in his youth 
 has seen his idol, Liberty, commit fearful crimes 
 in France as well as great deeds in America, 
 and who now, when on the threshold of the 
 grave, in which ere long he must repose, 
 beholds her regeneration in his native land, 
 redeemed from the cruelty that formerly 
 stained her course. 
 
 '' Voila le grand Lafayette V exclaimed 
 one of the people as he passed to-day ; " OuU 
 la ganaclie des deux mondes,'' replied the 
 other. Such is popular favour ! 
 
 I walked in the Palais Royale to-day ; and 
 felt much more disposed to pity than envy 
 the King of the French, as Louis Philippe is 
 styled, when I beheld a crowd of idle mis- 
 creants, assembled in front of his dwelling, 
 rudely and boisterously vociferating his name, 
 and in a tone -much more resembling command 
 than entreaty, desiring his presence. He at 
 length came forward, bowed repeatedly, pressed 
 his hand to his heart, and then withdrew, 
 
238 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 looking, as I thought, rather ashamed of the 
 role he was called on to enact, while his riotous 
 audience seemed elated at exhibiting his 
 docility. 
 
 The Queen was then called for, and, after 
 some delay, was handed forward by Louis 
 Philippe. It made me sad to look on the 
 altered countenance of this amiable woman, 
 whom all parties allow to be a most faultless 
 wife and mother. She is hardly to be recog- 
 nised as the same being who only a very few 
 months ago looked the personification of hap- 
 piness. Already has deep care and anxiety 
 left their furrows on her brow, proving that 
 
 A diadem, howe'er so bright it be, 
 
 Brings cares that frighten gentle sleep away, 
 
 E'en when from buried ancestors it comes, 
 
 Who bless'd when they bequeath it to their heir ; 
 
 For great is the responsibility 
 
 Of those who wear the symbol of a king, 
 
 In regular succession handed down 
 
 From sire to son through long antiquity. 
 
PARISS. 239 
 
 But when th' anointed head that M'ore it once 
 Sleeps not in death — but exiled, worse than death — 
 And scions legitimate live to claim 
 Their birthright, oh ! how heavy is that crown 
 (Though loose it fits), which well the wearer knows, 
 A people's breath may blow from off his brow, 
 Sear'd by the burning \v eight, it yet would guard, 
 E'en though it crush him. 
 
 I am told that no day passes in which a 
 crowd does not assemble beneath the windows 
 of Louis Philippe and loudly vociferate for his 
 presence. M. Laffitte is not unfrequently 
 seen T\ith the king on these occasions, and 
 when they embrace the crowd applaud. 
 
 I cannot imagine a more painful position 
 than that of the Queen of the French. De- 
 votedly attached to her husband and family, 
 she will have often to tremble for their safety, 
 exposed, as it must be, to the inconstancy and 
 evil passions of his soi-disant subjects, who 
 mav, ere long, be disposed to pull down the 
 throne they have erected for Louis Philippe 
 
240 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 as rapidly as they raised the barricades for its 
 elevation. 
 
 Had the King of the French succeeded to 
 the throne by the natural demise of those who 
 stood between him and it, how different would 
 be his position ; for it is agreed by all who 
 know him, that he has many qualities that 
 eminently fit him to fill it with credit to him- 
 self and advantage to the people ; but as it is, 
 I foresee nothing but trouble and anxiety for 
 him, — a melancholy change from the domestic 
 happiness he formerly enjoyed. Any attempt 
 to check the turbulence of the people will be 
 resented as an act of the utmost ingratitude to 
 those who placed the crown on his head; and 
 if he suffers it with impunity, he will not only 
 lose his empire over them, but incur the con- 
 tempt of the more elevated of his subjects. 
 
 I saw the King of the French walking 
 through the Place Vendome to-day, attended 
 only by one person. He was recognised, and 
 cheered, and returned the salutation very 
 
PARIS. 241 
 
 graciously. And there stood the column 
 erected to commemorate the victories of one 
 now sleeping in a foreign grave ; one whose 
 verv name was once the talisman that excited 
 all Parisian hearts into the wildest enthusiasm ! 
 
 Louis Philippe passed near the base of the 
 column, which seemed to return a sullen echo 
 to the voices that cheered him; did he, or 
 those around him, remember their vicinity to 
 this striking memorial of the inconstancy of 
 the nation? The scene awakened more re- 
 flections in my mind than I dare say it did in 
 that of those whose voices rent the air ; but 
 though it might be only fancy, I thought the 
 King of the French looked very grave. 
 
 Monsieur Mignet spent last evening here; 
 his conversation is full of interest, being the 
 overflowing of a rich mind, free from pre- 
 judices; and his ideas, though methodically 
 arranged and subjected to the ordeal of a sober 
 judgment, bear the warm tint of a brilliant 
 imagination, that might have rendered him a 
 
 VOL. II. M 
 
242 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 poet, had he not chosen to he a historian. 
 The Revolution has produced no visible 
 change in this clever and agreeable man, who, 
 filling the office of Keeper of the Archives, 
 devotes his time to studies and researches in 
 harmony w^ith the pursuits to which he has 
 many years been accustomed, and bears the 
 success of the popular cause, to which he has 
 long been attached, with a moderation and 
 equanimity highly indicative of a philosophical 
 mind, allied to an amiable disposition. There 
 is something so striking in the appearance of 
 Monsieur Mignet, that all strangers, who meet 
 him here, remark the fine character of his, 
 head and the expression of his countenance. 
 
 The celebrated General Peppe dined 
 here yesterdav, and is verv unlike the revo- 
 lutionary hero I had pictured him to be. 
 Mild, well-bred, and amiable in his manner, 
 he seems much more suited to command a 
 regiment in support of a legitimate monarchy, 
 than to subvert one. Although liberty 
 
PARIS. 
 
 243 
 
 appears to be with him a monomania, the 
 warmth with which he advocates it in con- 
 versation never urges him beyond the bounds 
 of good breeding. 
 
 It is a strange infatuation to suppose that 
 as civilisation extends its influence, men will 
 have faith in the Utopian schemes of well- 
 meaning visionaries, and risk evils they know 
 not, in exchange for a state which, if not 
 quite faultless, has at least much of good. 
 How many brave and honourable men be- 
 come the dupes of heated imaginations and 
 erroneous opinions, which, urging them to 
 efifect an amelioration of some grievances, 
 incur the penalty of imparting greater ones ! 
 General Peppe is liked by all who know 
 him, though all lament the monomania that 
 has gained such an ascendancy over his mind. 
 His brother. General Florestan Peppe at Na- 
 ples, whom we esteem so much, is one of the 
 most excellent men I ever knew. 
 
 The Due de Guiche has returned to Paris, 
 
244 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 after having seen the royal family safely em- 
 barked at Cherbourg. The departure of the 
 aged monarch presented a melancholy scene. 
 At his time of life, he can never hope to 
 behold his country again, and the sudden 
 change from the throne of a great kingdom 
 to a compelled exile in a foreign land is a 
 reverse of fortune that demands a philosophy 
 to support, with which few are blest. 
 
 There is something touching in the attach- 
 ment of the Due and Duchesse de Guiche 
 to this unfortunate family, and above all, to 
 the Dauphin and Dauphine. Always aware 
 of their affection for them, I never imagined 
 the strength of it, until the adversity which 
 has sent so many of those who had pre- 
 viously loudly professed their devotion to 
 them away, but which has increased the 
 feelinofs of reverence towards them in this 
 estimable couple, by mingling wdth it a 
 sentiment of deep commiseration, that in- 
 duces a still greater display of respect, now 
 
PARIS. 245 
 
 that so many others dispense with evincing it. 
 The Due is charged with the disposal of the 
 property of the Dauphin ; and, when this 
 task is accomplished, he and his family will 
 follow the fallen fortunes of Charles the 
 Tenth, and join him at Holyrood. 
 
 Loving France as they do, and wishing 
 their sons to be brought up in the land 
 of their birth, strong indeed must be the 
 affection that induces them to abandon it, 
 in order to devote themselves to the exiled 
 Bourbons. This devotion to the fallen is 
 the more meritorious when the liberality of 
 the Due's political opinions is taken into 
 consideration. How few sovereigns find such 
 devotion in adversity ! and how seldom are 
 men to be met with capable of sacrificing 
 their own interests and the future prospects 
 of their children to a sense of duty! 
 
 A lapse in my journal. — All seems now 
 settled. The foreign powers have acknow- 
 
246 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 ledged the King of the French ; and this 
 acknowledgment has not only delighted his 
 subjects, but confirmed them in the belief 
 of their own right to make or unmake sove- 
 reigns according to their will and pleasure. 
 
 The English are very popular in Paris 
 at this moment, and the ready recognition 
 of Louis Philippe by our government has 
 increased this good feeling. A vast crowd 
 escorted the carriage of Mr. Hamilton, the 
 Secretary of the Embassy, to his door, as he 
 returned from his first accredited audience 
 of the new monarch, and cries of Vive les 
 Anglais I filled the air. As Mr. Hamilton 
 resides in the house next to the one I occupy, 
 I had an opportunity of beholding this ova- 
 tion offered to him, and the people cer- 
 tainly evinced very great enthusiasm on the 
 occasion. 
 
 M. Thiers, M. Mignet, Count Valeski, and 
 Mr. Francis Baring, dined here yesterday. 
 M. Thiers was very brilliant and amusing. 
 
PARIS. 247 
 
 It is impossible to meet him even once with- 
 out being struck with the remarkable talent 
 that characterises every sentence he utters ; 
 and yet each observation comes forth with 
 such spirit and vivacity, that it is easy to 
 see it has been elicited at the moment by 
 some remark from another, and not from 
 meditation. 
 
 There is a hardiness in his conceptions, 
 and an epigrammatic terseness in the ex- 
 pression of them, that command attention ; 
 and the readiness with which he seizes, ana- 
 lyses, and disposes of a question, betrays such 
 a versatility of mental power as to convey a 
 conviction that he is a man who cannot fail 
 to fill a distinguished place in France, where, 
 at present, abilities furnish the master-key 
 that opens the door to honours and fortune. 
 M. Thiers appears to entertain a conscious- 
 ness of his talents, but does not, I really 
 think, overrate them. 
 
 The Prince and Princess Soutzo with 
 
248 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 their family, spent yesterday with us. Their 
 eldest daughter, the Princess Helena, is a 
 beautiful girl, with captivating manners, and 
 highly cultivated mind, and the little Mary, 
 though still in infancy, is one of the cleverest 
 children I ever saw. Never did I see young 
 people better brought up than are the sons 
 and daughters of this excellent couple, or a 
 more united family. 
 
 Mr. and Miss Poulter, and William Spencer, 
 the poet, dined here yesterday. Mr. Poulter 
 is a sensible man, and his sister is well 
 informed and intelligent. 
 
 It is now decided that we go to England! 
 Two years ago I should have returned there 
 with gladness, but now! — I dread it. How 
 changed wall all appear without him whose 
 ever-watchful affection anticipated every wish, 
 and realised every hope ! I ought to feel 
 pleased at leaving Paris, where the heaviest 
 trial of my life has occurred ; but here I have 
 now learned to get inured to the privation 
 
PARIS. 249 
 
 of his society, while in England I shall have 
 again to acquire the hard lesson of resignation. 
 
 Novemhei\ 1830 — This is the last entry 
 I shall make in my journal in Paris, for 
 to-morrow we depart for England. 
 
 I have passed the day in taking leave of 
 -those dear to me, and my spirits have failed 
 under the effort. Some of them I shall 
 probably never again behold. The dear and 
 excellent Madame Craufurd is amonof those 
 about whom I entertain the most melancholy 
 presentiments, because at her advanced age 
 I can hardly hope to find her, should I again 
 return to France. She referred to this to- 
 day with streaming eyes, and brought many 
 a tear to mine by the sadness of her antici- 
 pations. 
 
 The Due and Duchesse de Guiche I shall 
 soon see in England, on their route to Edin- 
 burgh, to join the exiled family at Holyrood, 
 for they are determined not to forsake them 
 in adversity. 
 
 M % 
 
250 THE IDLER IN FRANCE. 
 
 Adieu, Paris! two years and a half ago I 
 entered you with gladness, and the future 
 looked bright ; I leave you with altered 
 feelings, for the present is cheerless and the 
 future clouded. 
 
251 
 
 INDEX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NISMES. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Antiquities of this City — The Hotel du Midi — 
 Articles of Merchandise — History of the Maison 
 Carree — Work of Poldo d'Albenas — The Build- 
 ing described — Origin of it — Now used as a 
 Museum — Monument to Marcus Attius — Car- 
 dinal Alberoni — Barbarous Project — Removal 
 of Antiquities -7 The Amphitheatre described — 
 Charles Martel — Excellent Precaution in Roman 
 Theatres — Inscription — Officious Cicerone — 
 Gate of Augustus — La Tour-Magne — Excava- 
 tions — Fine Fountain — Temple of Diana — 
 Brevity of Human Life 1 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 TOWN OF ARLES, 
 
 Beaucaire — Wooden Houses — Castle of King Rene 
 — Church of St. Martha — Fabulous Monster — 
 
^52 INDEX TO VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Hotel described — The Hostess — Antique 
 Furniture — Plentiful Dinner — Scrutiny — Visit 
 to the Amphitheatre — The Prefect of Aries — 
 Subterranean Excavations — Ancient Church of 
 St. Anne — Altar to the Goddess of Good — 
 Venus of Aries — Granite Obelisk — Primitive 
 Manners — A Liberal Landlady 25 
 
 CHAPTER HL 
 
 ST. REMY. 
 
 Situation of the Town — Antiquities — The Triumphal 
 Arch described — Male and Female Figures — 
 The Mausoleum — Bassi-relievi of Battles, In- 
 fantry, &c. — Figure of a Winged Female — Latin 
 Inscription — Variously explained — Interpreta- 
 tion of Monsieur P. Malosse — Respect for the 
 Departed — On the Triumphal Arch and Mauso- 
 leum at St. Remy 40 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 LYONS. 
 
 The JFete de Dieu — Procession through the Streets 
 — Ecclesiastical and Military Pomp — Decorations 
 in the Streets — Effect produced on the Mind by 
 Sacred Music — Excitements to Religious Fer- 
 vour — The Miserere 36 
 
INDEX TO VOL. I. 253 
 
 I'AGE 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 Fatiguing Journey — Landau Accident — The Hotel 
 de Terrasse, in the Rue de Rivoli — Six Years' 
 Absence — The Due and Duchesse de Guiche — 
 Joy of Meeting — Fashion at Paris — Visit to Her- 
 bault's Temple of Fashion — Mademoiselle La 
 Touche — Extravagant Charges — Caution to Hus- 
 bands — A Word, also, to Wives — Visit to Ma- 
 dame Craufurd — Her prepossessing Appearance 
 — House-hunting — Residence of the Marechal 
 Lobeau — Review in the Champ de Mars — Splen- 
 did Coup dceil — The Marchioness de Louie — 
 Restrictions at Court — Accident to the Comte de 
 Bourmont — Alarm of the Ladies — Charles the 
 Tenth, the Dauphin, and the Dauphine — Melan- 
 choly Physiognomy of Charles the First — The 
 Duchesse d'Angouleme — Her Trials and Endur- 
 ance — French Love of Country — The Duchesse 
 de Berri — Dinner at the Duchesse de Guiche's — 
 William Lock — The Comte I'Esperance de 
 I'Aigle — His high breeding — The Opera — Debut 
 of Taglioni — Her Poetical Style of Dancing — 
 The Due de Cazes — French and English Manners 
 contrasted — Attentions to the Fair Sex in France 
 — The Comtesses de Bellegarde — Character of 
 the Due de Gramont — Lady Barbara Craufurd — 
 Count Valeski — Anger of the Marechal Lobeau 
 — Defect in French Houses — The MuettedePortici 
 — Noblet — An old Danseuse — Gaiety at Tivoli 
 
254 INDEX TO VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — Similarity in the Exterior of Parisian Ladies — 
 A Quadrille Party — Demi-toilette — Late Tea- 
 Party — Luxurious Chair — Delightful House in 
 the Rue de Bourbon — Its costly Decorations — 
 Its Interior described — The Princesse de la Mos- 
 kowa — Sad Interview — ^Marechal Ney 60 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Custom of letting out Furniture — The Prince and 
 Princesse Castelcicala — Lady Hawarden — Lady 
 Combermere — Tone of Society at Paris — Atten- 
 tions paid by Young Men to Old Ladies — Flirta- 
 tions at Paris — Ceremonious Decorum — Comte 
 Charles de Mornay — Parisian Upholsterers — 
 Rich Furniture — Lord Yarmouth — Elegant Suite 
 of Apartments — Charles Mills — Warm Affections 
 between Relatives in France 109 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Domestic Arrangements — Changes in Young People 
 — Pleasant Recollections — Lord Lilford — The 
 Marquis and Marquise Zamperi — Comte Alex- 
 ander de la Borde — The Marquis de Mornay — 
 Mode of passing the Time — Evening Visits in 
 France — Dinner-party — The Due Dalberg — The 
 Due de Mouchy — Party to Montmorency — Rous- 
 seau's Hermitage — Sensibility, a Characteristic of 
 Genius — Solitude — Letter of Rousseau to Vol- 
 
INDEX TO VOL. I. ^^5 
 
 PAGE 
 
 taire — Church of Montmorency — Baths at En- 
 ghien — The Comtesse de Gand — Colonel E. 
 Lygon — The Marquis de Dreux Breze — Contrast 
 between him and the Due de Talleyrand —The 
 Baron and Baroness de Ruysch— Mr. Douglas 
 Kinnaird — Sir Francis Burdett — Colonel Lei- 
 eester Stanhope — The Marquis Palavicini — 
 Charms of Italian Women — ^Lords Darnley and 
 Charlemont — Mr. Young, the Tragedian — Lord 
 Lansdowne — Estimate of his Character — Sir 
 Robert Peel — Respect for the Memory of Sir 
 William Drummond — Lady Drummond — "Vi- 
 vian Grey " — Mr. Standish — Intermarriages 
 between the French and the English 124 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 Charles Kemble — His Daughters Tragedy of 
 " Francis the First " — Recollection of John 
 Kemble— The OpevB.— Count Ori/— Sir A. Bar- 
 nard — Secret of Happiness — Visit to Made- 
 moiselle Mars — Her Residence described — Me- 
 morial of her Theatrical Career — The Duchesse 
 de la Force — Madame Grassini — Anecdote of 
 her — Visit to Orsay — Its Situation — The Prin- 
 cesse de Croy — Hamlet of Palaiseau — Drama of 
 La Pie Voleuse — Family of the Due de Guiche — 
 The Vaudeville Theatre — Scribe's Avant, Pen- 
 dant, et Apres — Its Dangerous Tendency — 
 French Ambition — ^Parisian Shopkeepers — Their 
 Officious Conduct 1^2 
 
256 INDEX TO VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Lord and Lady Stuart de Rothesay — French Polite- 
 ness — Mr. D and Mr. T Study of • 
 
 Shakspeare — Attractions of Mrs. T Lady 
 
 Charlotte Lindsay and the Misses Berry — Sir 
 William Gell — Mr. and Mrs. Hare — Female 
 Amiability — Shopping — Hints on Female Dress 
 
 — Brilliancy of French Conversation — Mr. J. 
 Strangways — A severe Trial — The Plague-spot 
 — Miraculous Escape — Dinner given by Comte 
 A. de Maussion — Goethe's Faust — Character of 
 
 " Margaret " — The witty Mr. M Lord 
 
 Byron — French Quickness of Apprehension — 
 Sept Heures — Character of Charlotte Corday 
 — Degenerate Taste of the Parisians — Hasty 
 Conclusions 177 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The celebrated Dr. P Society of Medical Men 
 
 — Dr. Guthrie — Requisites for a Surgeon — 
 Celebrity and Merit — The Road to Fortune, as 
 
 related by Dr. P Successful Stratagem — 
 
 Fancied Illness — Superfluity of Embonpoint — 
 Mode of Treatment — Another Patient — The 
 Doctor d-la-mode — Mr. P. C. Scarlett — His 
 Father, Sir James Scarlett — Lord Erskine — 
 
 Mr. H. B Visit to the Theatre Italien — 
 
 Madame Malibran's "Desdemona" — Defect in 
 her Singing — The Princesse Pauline Borghese — 
 The Family of Napoleon — Particulars of the 
 
INDEX TO VOL. I. 257 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Duchesse d'Abrantes — The Luxembourg Palace 
 and Gardens — A Loying Couple — Holiness of 
 Marriage — Story of the Old Bachelor and his 
 Crafty Housekeeper 20o 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Groups of Children in the Gardens of the Luxenfi- 
 bourg — Joyous Sounds — The Nurses — The 
 Child of Noble Birth and that of the Parvenu— 
 Joys of Childhood — Contrast between Youth and 
 
 Age — Meeting with Dr. P Arrival of 
 
 General and the Coratesse d'Orsay — Attractions 
 of the latter — Remarii of Napoleon — Affection in 
 Domestic Circles in France — The Duchesse de 
 Guiche — The Comtesse d'Orsay — The Due de 
 Gramont — Madame Craufurd — The ci-devant 
 Jeune Homme — Potier, the Actor — Sir Francis 
 Burdett — Advantages of French Society— Topics 
 of Conversation — Pedigrees of Horses — French 
 Politeness — Deferential Treatment of the Fair 
 Sex — Domestic Duties of the Duchesse de 
 Guiche — Influence of Courts — ^Visit to the Thea- 
 tre des Nouveautes — La Maison du Rempart — 
 Inflammable Exhibitions — Mr. Cuthbert and 
 M. Charles Laffitte — Advance of Civilization — 
 Lady Combermere — Mr. Charles Grant (now 
 Lord Glenelg) — Curiosity Shops on the Quai 
 Voltaire — Madame de Sevigne — Objects that 
 have belonged to celebrated People — A Hint to 
 the Ladies — Pincushion of Madame de Maintenon 
 
258 INDEX TO VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — The Marquis de Rambouillet — Moliere's Pre- 
 cieuses Ridicules — Pangs of Jealousy — Julie 
 d'Angennes — Brilliant Coterie 234 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 The Marquise de Pouleprie — The celebrated Madame 
 du Barry — Anecdote — Mademoiselle Mars in 
 Valerie — Her admirable Style of Acting — Play- 
 ing to the Galleries — Exclusive Nature of Pari- 
 sian Society — French Conversation — Quickness 
 of Perception — Walk in the Gardens of the 
 Tuilleries — Comparative Beauty of French and 
 English Ladies — Graceful Walking of the Former 
 — Difference of Etiquette — Well-bred English- 
 men — Flight of Time — Colonel Caradoc, son of 
 Lord Howden — New Year's Day — Custom of 
 making Presents — Gallery of the Louvre — The 
 Statues therein — Works of Art — Chefs-d'oeuvre 
 of the Old Masters — Consolation for Men of 
 Genius — Nicolas Poussin 263 
 
 CHAPTER XHL 
 
 Visit to the Hotel d'Orsay— Sad Change in it— Mr. 
 Millingen, the Antiquary — Liberality of Comte 
 d'Orsay — A Fanciful Notion — General Ornano — 
 Unhappy Marriages accounted for — La Gazza 
 Ladra — Malibran's " Ninetta " — The Cala- 
 mities of Authors — Mr. Disraeli — The Prin- 
 
INDEX TO VOL. I. 259 
 
 PAGE 
 
 cesse de Talleyrande — Her Person described — 
 Her Dress and Manners — Amusing Story told 
 by the Abbe Denon — Unexpected Arrival — 
 Yes and No, by Lord Normanby — Lady Dysart 
 — Comte Valeski — Influence of Agreeable Man- 
 ners — Effects of opposite ones — Injudicious 
 
 Friends — A Candid Admission — Lord 
 
 Love of Contradiction — Remarks on the Novel 
 of Pelham — Misery of receiving stupid Books — 
 Malibran in La Cenerentola — French Customs — 
 Proofs d'Amitie — Wedding Dresses 286 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Comte Charles de Mornay — His Wit and Good 
 Nature — Mademoiselle Mars, in Henri III. — 
 Some Account of the Play — Love and Ambition 
 — Curious Incident — Romantic Notions — Passion 
 of Love — Wordsworth's Poems — Admiration of 
 his Writings — Religion displayed by the Upper 
 Classes — The Due de Bordeaux — Piety of the 
 Great — Popularity of the Duchesse de Berri — 
 Anecdote of her — Walter Savage Landor — His 
 Imaginary Conversations — Sir William Gell — ^ 
 The Due d'Orleans — His Enviable Situation — 
 The Due de Chartres — Genius of Shelley — 
 Beauty of his Writings — His Wild Theories — 
 William Spencer, the Poet — Melancholy Change 
 in Him — French Prejudices towards the English 
 — Example of it — Accomplishments of French 
 Ladies — Talent for Conversation 311 
 
260 INDEX TO VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Consequences of the R evolution in France — Corruption 
 of the Regency — Sarcastic Verses of St. Evre- 
 mond — Reign of Louis the Fifteenth — Lessons 
 taught by Affliction — Dangers of Anarchy — The 
 Haute Noblesse previously to the Revolution — 
 Want of Affection between Parents and Child- 
 ren — Superficial Judgments erroneous — Power 
 of Fashion — The Novel of Devereux — Infre- 
 quency of Elopements in France — Les Dames 
 
 de B Their Attachment to each other — 
 
 Old Maids — Servitude in England and France 
 contrasted — French Masters and Mistresses — 
 Treatment of Servants — Avoidance of Politics — 
 French Discontent — Charles the Tenth — National 
 Prosperity — The Duchesse de Guiche and her 
 two Sons — Position of the Due de Guiche .... 335 
 
INDEX 
 
 TO THE 
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 Approach of Spring — Fogs on the Seine — The Jar- 
 dins des Tuilleries — Impurity of the London 
 Atmosphere — Exhilaration of the Spirits — Anec- 
 dote — The Catholic Question — Lord Rosslyn — 
 The Duke of Wellington — Merits of a Cook — 
 Amour Propre of a Parisian Cook — English 
 Sauce — A Gourmand and an Epicure — The Due 
 de Talleyrand — A perfect Dinner — The Marquis 
 
 de L House-hunting again — Letter from 
 
 Lord B The Hotel Monaco — College of 
 
 St. Barbe — The Duchesse de Guiche and her 
 Sons — A Mother's Triumph — Spirit of Emulation 
 — The Quarter called the Pays Latin — An Au- 
 thor's Dress — Aspect of the Women — A Life of 
 Study — Amabel Tastu's Poems — Effect of Living 
 much in Society — Mr. W. Spencer — His Ab- 
 
 PAGE 
 
262 INDEX TO VOL. II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 straction — Disadvantages of Civilization — Con- 
 fession of Madame de A Hint to Comte 
 
 on visiting London — Suspicion of Poverty 
 
 — A Diner Maigre — Luxurious Bishops 1 
 
 CHAPTER H. 
 
 Romantic Feelings of Lady C True Love — 
 
 Disagreeable Neighbours — Credulity — Mademoi- 
 selle Delphine Gay — French Novels — French 
 Critics — Eligible Mansions — Comforts of Seclu- 
 sion — Genius of L.E.L. — The Comtesse d'O 
 
 — A Brilliant Talker — Letter from Mrs. Hare- 
 Extreme Hospitality — Long Champs — Exhibition 
 of Spring Fashions — French Beauties — Animated 
 Scene — Promenade at Long Champs — Extrava- 
 gance of Mademoiselle du The — Modern Morals 
 • — Ci7iq Mars, by Comte Alfred de Vigny — His 
 Style — Strictures on Mankind — The best Phi- 
 losophy — Speech of Lord Grey — The Caterpillar 
 — A Voracious Appetite — A Refined Lady — La 
 Chronique du Tem.ps de Charles IX., by Prosper 
 Merimee — Estimation of Sir Walter Scott — Jules 
 Janin — Injudicious Praise — Renewal of Youth — 
 Self-Deception — Grey Hairs 26 
 
 CHAPTER HL 
 
 Victor Hugo's Dernier s Jours d\m Condamne — 
 Value of Common Sense — Conscience — Cunning 
 
INDEX TO VOL. II. ^63 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — Curiosity Shops, or the Quai d'Orsay — Expen- 
 sive and Tasteful Gifts — An Avaricious Vender 
 — A Moral — Anonymous Scribbler — Weakness 
 of Mind — Poems of Mrs. Hemans — The Minds 
 of Genius — Poetesses of England — Arrival of 
 
 Lord B The Catholic Question carried — 
 
 Irish Prejudices — Letters from Absent Friends — 
 Sir William Gell — The Archbishop of Tarentum 
 — Discoveries at Pompeii — Novel of The Dis- 
 owned — Advantages to be derived from the Peru- 
 sal of Works of Fiction — Politics — Charles the 
 Tenth unpopular — Charles the First — The House 
 of Bourbon — " Uneasy lies the Head that wears 
 
 a Crown" — The Due de T Mr. Hook's 
 
 Sayings and Doings — Vi§it to the Hotel Mo- 
 naco 52 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A New Residence — Consolation in Sickness — House 
 in the Rue de Matignon — Its Interior described 
 — The Library — Drive in the Bois de Boulogne 
 — Atmbspheric Influence — The Rocher de Cancale 
 — A Diner de Restaurant — A Gay Sight — Good 
 Taste in Dress innate in Frenchwomen — Well- 
 appointed Carriages — Soldier-like Air of the Male 
 Population — Observation of the Emperor Na- 
 poleon — Characteristics of the British Soldier — 
 National Anthem — Changes in the Journey of 
 Life — Captain Marryat's Naval Officer — Per- 
 formance of Latour d'Auvergne — Letter of Car- 
 
264" INDEX TO VOL. II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 not — Distinction awarded to Merit by Napoleon 
 — National Glory — Effect of Enthusiasm — Villa 
 of the Duchesse de Montmorency — Residences on 
 the Banks of the Thames — Bagatelle, the Seat of 
 the Due de Bordeaux — Earthly Happiness — Do- 
 mestic Alterations — High Rents at Paris — Ter- 
 race and Aviary — Unsettled State 76 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Unexpected Events — Mr. and Mrs. Mathews — Their 
 Son, Charles — Evening Party — Recitations and 
 Songs — Pleasant Recollections — Visit to the Jar- 
 din des Plantes — Amusing Incident — Humorous 
 Imitations — Intellectual Powers — Recourse to 
 Reading — The Comte Montalembert — His Grief 
 on the Death of his Daughter — Restraint imposed 
 by Society — Fate of the Unfortunate — The 
 Prince and Princess Soutzo — Particulars relative 
 to them — Reverse of Fortune — Mr. Rogers and 
 Mr. Luttrell — Memory of Lord Byron— His 
 Lampoon on Rogers — Love of Sarcasm — Conver- 
 sation of Mr. Luttrell — Lord John Russell— His 
 Qualifications— Monsieur Thiers— Monsieur Mig- 
 net— His Vigorous Writings — Friendship between 
 Thiers and Mignet — The Baron Cailleux— Visit 
 to the Louvre — Taste for the Fine Arts — The 
 Marquis and Marquise de B Clever Peo- 
 ple Lord Allen and Sir Andrew Barnard — The 
 
 Culinary Art ^^ 
 
INDEX TO VOL. II. 265 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Mr. Rogers and Mr. Luttrell — Society of Refined 
 Englishmen — Mercurial Temperament of the 
 French — Opposite Characters — M. Erard's Col- 
 lection of Pictures — Antique Bijouterie — Lord 
 Pembroke — The Duke of Hamilton — Dr. Parr — 
 Reproof of the Due de Blacas — Monsieur Mignet 
 
 — His great Knowledge — A Clever IVIan — In- 
 fluence of Conscience — Abilities of Lord Palmer- 
 ston — Lord Castlereagh — His Uncle, the late 
 Marquess of Londonderry — Dangers of Fashion 
 
 — Mr. Cutlar Fergusson — The Baron and Ba- 
 roness de Ruysch — A Mind at Ease — Dreary 
 Weather — Sad State of the Streets- — Fogs — Fas- 
 cination of Madame Grassini — Sledge Party — 
 Sledge of the Due de Guiche — That of Comte 
 d'Orsay — Picturesque Night Scene — Revival 
 of an Old Fashion — The Prince Polignac — His 
 Amiable Manners — His Difficult Position 120 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 Effects of Indisposition — Instability of Earthly Bless- 
 ings — Captain William Anson (Brother of Lord 
 Anson) — His varied Acquirements — The pretty 
 
 Madame de la H Prince Paul Lieven — 
 
 Captain Cadogan (now Earl Cadogan) — Life at 
 Sea — Visit to the Duchesse de Guiche — Her 
 Warmth and Gentleness of Manner — Political 
 Crisis — The Conquest of Algiers — General Ex- 
 VOL. II. N 
 
^266 INDEX TO VOL. II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 celmans — Rash Measure — Charles the Tenth — 
 His Ministry unpopular — Prosperity of France — 
 Extorted Concessions — Dissolution of the Cham- 
 bers — ThiB Public Press — Controversy — Commo- 
 tion before the Hotel of the Ministre des Finances 
 — The Ministers insulted — Counsel of the Due 
 de Guiche — Serious Aspect of Affairs — Crowds 
 in the Streets — Household of Charles the Tenth 
 
 — Noblesse of his Court — Confusion and Alarm 
 
 — Riotous Conduct — Firing on the People — 
 Formation of Barricades — Absence of the Civil 
 Authorities — Nocturnal Impressions — Comtes 
 d'Orsay and Valeski — Scene in the Place de la 
 Bourse — The Corps de Garde set on Fire — Dark- 
 ness in the Rue Richelieu — Further Disturbances 
 — Continued Depredations — Breach between the 
 ^People and the Sovereign — Anecdote of Monsieur 
 
 Salvandy „ . . 139 
 
 CHAPTER VIH. 
 
 The Dead paraded through the Streets to inflame 
 the Populace — The Shops closed — The Due de 
 Raguse censured — His Supineness — Devotion of 
 the Due de Guiche to his Sovereign — The Mili- 
 tary Dispositions defective — Flag of the Bourbons 
 — Troops in Want of Refreshment — Destruction 
 of the Royal Emblems — Disgusting Exhibition — 
 Rumours of Fresh Disasters — Opinion of Sir 
 Roger de Coverley — Revolutions the Carnivals 
 
INDEX TO VOL. IE. 26^ 
 
 PAGE 
 
 of History — Observation of Voltaire — Doctors 
 Pasquier and de Guise — Report of Fire-arms — 
 Paucity of Provisions — Female Courage — Do- 
 mestic Entrenchment — Further Hostilities — Con- 
 flicting Rumours — The Sublime and the Ridi- 
 culous — Juvenile Intrepidity — Fatality — The 
 Soldiers and the Populace — Visit to Madame 
 Craufurd — Barricade in the Rue Verte — Ap- 
 proaching ^lob — Safe Arrival in the Rue d'Anjou 
 — Terror of ^Madame Craufurd — Her Anxiety 
 for her Relatives — Composure of the Marquis 
 d'Aligre — Riotous Assembly in the Rue Verte — 
 Their Conduct towards the Author — Dangerous 
 Symbol of Aristocracy — Arrival at Home 138 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Familiarity of French Servants — Power of the People 
 
 — Misguided Men — Further Rumours — Who 
 are the People ? — An Intruder — A Revolutionary 
 Hero — The Tuilleries and the Louvre taken — 
 Sir Thomas LawTence's Portrait of the Dauphin 
 
 — The Terrible and the Comic — Trophies of 
 Victory — The Palace of the Archbishop of Paris 
 sacked — Concessions of Charles the Tenth — The 
 Duchesse de Berri — Lord Stuart de Rothesay — 
 Noble Conduct — The Duchesse de Guiche — Her 
 trying Situation — The Provisional Government 
 — The Tri-coloured Flag — Meeting of the De- 
 puties — Bitter Feelings towards the Royal Family 
 
268 INDEX TO VOL. II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — Bravery of the Populace — Lafayette and his 
 Followers — Scene in the Street — " The Good 
 Cause" — The wealthy M. Laffitte — Valuable 
 Collections at Paris — Courageous Conduct of the 
 Duchesse de Guiche — Her Champions —Attack 
 on the Hotel of the Due de Guiche — Comte 
 Alfred d'Orsay — Painful Position 179 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Sanctuary of Home — Madame C Intoxicated 
 
 Revolutionist — His Good Nature — The Proprietor 
 of a Wine- Shop — Politeness of all Classes in 
 France — Barrack in the Rue Verte — Difficulty 
 of obtaining Admission — Agitation of Madame 
 
 C Comte Valeski — The Barracks attacked 
 
 and taken — Dangerous Route — Impassable Gulf 
 between the Sovereign and the People — The 
 Royal Cause hopeless — A Fine Youth killed — 
 Reflections on his Death — Number of Persons 
 killed during the last Three Days — Details of a 
 Battle — Rumour respecting the Dauphin — Inter- 
 ment of the Page — Fatality attending the Bour- 
 bons — Absence of the Dauphine — Revolt of the 
 Troops — The Duchesse de Guiche at St. Ger- 
 main — Her noble Bearing — The Due de Gra- 
 mont — The Chateau du Val, the Residence of 
 the Princesse de Poix — The Fugitive Duchess — 
 Popularity of Lafayette — The Due d'Orleans 
 named Lieut.-General of France — Order restored 
 
INDEX TO VOL. II. 269 
 
 PAGF 
 
 — Abdication of Charles the Tenth — Renewed Ex- 
 citement — Clamours against the King — A Fickle 
 People — Wicked Rumours — The King quits 
 Rambouillet — School of Adversity — Desertion 
 by Friends — Route to Cherbourg 200 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Rumour relative to the Son of Napoleon — Unsettled 
 State of Affairs — Conflicting Rumours — The 
 Duke of Orleans — Charms of a Crown — Aspect 
 of the Champs Elysees — Unsought Popularity — 
 Comte d'Orsay — Scene of Destruction — Shattered 
 Trees — Pride of the People — Re-action after Ex- 
 citement — Anecdote — The Jeweller's Wife — 
 Passions of the French — Playing at Soldiers — 
 Enthusiasm of the Garde Nationale — Return to 
 Paris of the Duchesse de Guiche — Confidence of 
 the Due — Courage of the Duchesse — General 
 Gerard — The Duke of Orleans accepts the Crown 
 — Popularity, an unstable Possession — Abilities 
 of Louis Philippe — Expectations formed of him 
 — Person of Lafayette — Appearance in Public of 
 the new Sovereign — The Queen — Her painful 
 Position — The King of the French in the Place 
 Vendome — Monsieur Mignet — His varied Ac- 
 quirements — The celebrated General Peppe — 
 Strange Infatuation — Charles the Tenth embarks 
 at Cherbourg — Devotion to the exiled Bourbons 
 
^70 INDEX TO VOL. II. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — The English Popular at Paris — Mr. Hamilton, 
 Secretary of the Embassy — Brilliant Conversation 
 of M. Thiers — - The Prince and Princesse Soutzo 
 ' — Mr. Poulter — Lesson of Resignation — De- 
 parture for England — Leave-taking — Adieu to 
 Paris 221 
 
 THE END. 
 
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