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fierce passions, the brutal ignorance, the unbridled “ I rather think it is. The nobles have skinned us thoughts, the canker-worm of corruption, the rotten long enough. Their turn now. I wonder if their hides fabric of the State, the seeds of poverty, misery, and are really so much softer,” said the Bourreau-ready-made death, all plentifully sown by ages of debauchery, profli- disciple of the reign of terror. gacy, and misgovernment, on the part of the kings and Fichtre, you go quick," said the other, more cau. aristocracy of France ; but concealed beneath the sur- tiously, “ our masters won't give way without a face, hid by the spangled splendour of courtiers and struggle.” court, veiled by the silks and satins of haughty dames, “ You are right,” observed Duchesne, “therefore, smothered beneath orient pearls, jewels, and gold ; its *quiet' is the word, and let us wait what turns up. Be cries stifled amid the resounding of great names, the sure somebody will be sappeurs." glare of rank, and the laugh, the song, and the festival- “ Agreed, comrade, and now enough of history, it's but still smouldering—in places bursting forth and pre- dry talk," said Torticolis, pledging the other in a paring to flood all bounds, to visit with awful retribution bumper. the authors of so much evil—was coming that terrible “ Enough—for the present." thing called public opinion.

And, unknown to himself, Charles Clement had se But republicanism in France was but the splendid cured for the revolution two blind and devoted adherents, dream of a few noble, though erring spirits, who mistook but such as served to ruin the hopes of its wisest advohatred of oppression, impatience of suffering for love of cates. liberty, and enthusiastic reception of it for fitness to “ But allow me to observe, M. Duchesne, that the enjoy it. They forgot that the despotic monarchy had weather is somewhat dark ; I expect we shall have a not only impoverished, but corrupted the people, who storm.” were brutal, superstitious, ignorant, impulsive, incapable “ Two and two make four," said the Bourreau, " and of reasoning, and that they must infallibly become anar- thick clouds bring rain. Madame Martin, we shall sleep chical, disbelieving, and not knowing what liberty really here to-night.” was, degenerate into license. A people passes not from * Very good," said the dame, complacently, “there slavery to freedom at a stroke without losing all self- is a double-bedded room at your service.” control. A republic, being the perfection of human “ And for me ?" inquired Charles Clement, raising government, requires for its maintenance—and then his head from the pamphlet over which he had been magnificent, indeed, would be its career—that the musing. monarchy upon whose ruins it is erected should have “ I have had a fire lit in No. 1,” replied Madame given the people a foretaste of freedom—that they should Martin, with a smile and a curtsey. have exercised, without knowing it, most of the functions “See what it is to be young and have good looks," of democracy—that trusting in a religion which is whispered Duchesne, with a meaning wink ; “I shouldn't cherished because heart and head go hand in hand with wonder if she sent him away without asking for his faith, they should not blindly follow mere ceremonies and bill." symbols they do not understand—that they be educated Sapristi,” replied Torticolis, laughing, “it is the sufficiently to understand the full difference between way of the world.” liberty and license—that they knew enough to distinguish Meanwhile the weather had in reality set in with between patriots and spouting quacks. The republic violence. The growling of thunder was heard in the must come, too, gradually, but as the culminating stroke distance, gradually becoming more distinct, while the of a long line of reforms ; in a word, they must have wind shook the not very firm timbers of the Dernier dwelt long beneath a constitutional government, not a Sou, making the travellers draw with additional pleadespotism—be Protestants, not Catholics--an industrial sure round the fire, which Madame Martin had recently thinking people, not a passionate and military nation-- refreshed by the addition of several huge logs. Gradahave lived in the nineteenth, not the eighteenth century ally, as the day quite faded, and no light illumined the and instead of Frenchmen be

History will room save the fitful flame of the fire, Clement closed his conclude my sentence.

book, and, being in a dreamy humour, kept his ere Who looks on France, however, before the revolution, fixed upon the blaze, while his ears drank in, with sinwho inquires profoundly into the natural causes of its ex- gular satisfaction, the sound of the storm without. cesses, will own that the awful tempest was necessary, “It rolls on apace,” he muttered, as the heavy for the blood of the nation had stagnated, and the heart booming of the thunder was heard overhead, and, like would soon have ceased to beat. The remedy was it, will roll the anger of the people ; much noise, mueh terrible, but with all its horrors less terrible than the tumult, to leave the air all the more fresh and pleasant." evil.

But Clement forgot, in applying his comparison, the Meanwhile Duchesne and Torticolis, between whom a devastating fire, which, previous to the termination of strange link had created a kind of fraternity, had spent the storm, often does terrible deeds. their time in discussing over their bottle and glass the “ It strikes me," said Torticolis, suddenly rising, hopes which the few words of the ardent youth had “ that I hear voices withont." awakened in their bosoms.

“ The wind,” replied Duchesne, who was quietly Peste,” said Duchesne, continuing his remarks, “ if loading a pipe, his ultima thule of happiness. he were right, and the people were about to become “ Did you ever hear the wind say · Sacré !'» consomething."

tinued Torticolis, somewhat contemptuously, “ It is time,” replied Torticolis, gravely, for this his “Not exactly," answered Duchesne, raising a burnfirst political discussion seemed to weigh upon his ing stick, and applying it methodically to the bowl of mind,

his pipe,

“ Then don't contradict me,” observed Torticolis, sembled, in his plumed hat, his powdered wig, his short " and allow me to observe, without denial, that a voice mantle and long braided waistcoat, with loose green just now said . Sacré !'

coat, a diamond-hilted sword, and other courtly appenAt the same time, the loud clashing of a postilion's dages, a skeleton dressed up in mockery of death, so whip, the rumbling of wheels, and the sound of horses' thin were his cheeks, so shrivelled, dry, and yellow was feet, were heard above the roar of the storm, which his skin. now came down in piti showers of rain,

Presenting a marked contrast, not only with the aged “ Travellers,” said Madame Martin, advancing with nobleman, but one with the other, the two ladies formed alacrity to meet them.

a bright relief to the aspect, stern, proud, and cadaveReaching the door, and throwing it wide open, the rous, of the courtier. worthy landlady of the Dernier Sou peered forth into The one slight, delicate, and frail, the other of equal the darkness.

height, but fuller and more womanly proportions, with“ Holy mother ! a chaise de poste ! Pierre ! Pierre !" out being a month older ; the one pale, with a comshe cried in a loud and shrill tone.

plexion of dazzling fairness, the other with a rich “Hola! he !" replied a rough voice from the stable. tint of summer skies on her scarcely less white com“ Come round and attend to the carriage."

plexion ; the one with light graceful hair, worn powA vehicle, and one, too, of no small pretensions, to dered, in the fashion of the day, the other with a mass judge from its unwieldy though handsome form, with of heavy dark ringlets, falling as nature gave them on four horses and numerous outriders, had, in fact, halted her shoulders ; the one with liquid blue eyes, soft, before the little inn, while several men-servants descend- tender, and fawn-like, the other with dark and speaking ing from their horses, hastened, some to open the door orbs, that spoke of passion, energy, and fire ; the one of the carriage, while others advanced to the entrance with a delicate but somewhat low forehead, the other of the auberge.

with a lofty, almost massive brow, all intellect ; the one “Woman,” said one of these, insolently apostrophis- with a mouth made but to speak sweet things and give ing the worthy Madame Martin, “my master, to avoid soft kisses, the other with beautifully shaped lips, but the storm, has decided to honour your cabaret with his ones on which sat determination and power ; the waist presence. Make way for the Duke de Ravilliere.” of the former was thin, that of the latter disdained all

The various parties occupying the interior of the inn artificial restraint, and exhibited the natural graces of started, while each experienced sensations peculiar to form which woman generally does her best to mar. their individual characters.

Charles Clement has caught all these shades of diffeMadame Martin, true to the money-bag, like all rence at a glance, though his eyes, after the first imfaithful innkeepers—no longer the accomplices but the pulse, rested, by virtue of the spirit of antagonism inheprinciples in acts of extortion—without noticing the too rent in our nature, on the fair girl who so little resembled common impertinence of the servant, was overwhelmed himself, it could be seen at once, either in appearance or with delight at the honour which fell upon her house, character. His attention was, however, only given to though a pang went to her heart as she remembered their native graces, omitting all search for the details that her only decent room was engaged by the hand of their costume, which he noticed not, in which partisome young stranger.

cular, therefore, we shall follow his example. The two men, Torticolis and Duchesne, were equally “Germain,” said the Duke, addressing his principal solicitous about their apartment, which they had little servant, after a brief pause, “ can one dine here ?" doubt would be summarily taken possession of by the “No, monseigneur," replied the lacquey, positively, lacqueys.

without waiting for the landlady's remarks. Charles Clement smiled. He, the republican aspi- “ Monsieur le Duc, I beg pardon,” exclaimed the rant, had possession of No. 1, and the Duke de Ravil irate cabaretiere. liere was no doubt about to dispute it with him. An- Germain, tell this good woman to speak when she other sentiment evidently actuated him, as a blush is spoken to. We cannot dine, I suppose—then we passed rapidly across his intelligent face.

must fast," Meanwhile Madame Martin and Pierre busied them- “ Faith, I hope not,” said the dark-eyed beauty, selves in hunting up and lighting several lamps, which, laughing, “ for the air and motion has given me an with the blaze of the fire, made the old room look more appetite,” cheerful and sunny. Charles retreated into a dull cor- “Countess,” replied the Duke gallantly, “ were you ner of the apartment, to be as far apart from the new a man, I should remark that your observation was company as possible, and was nearly concealed by the vulgar.” curtains of the good landlady's bed, while Duchesne and “ But, as I am a woman,” gaily continued the CounTorticolis, their valiant resolutions and resolves made tess, “ it is truth.” against the whole race of nobles vanishing for the « Monsieur,” said the valet, respectfully, “forgets nonce, like morning dew, rose, respectfully awaiting the that the lunch is yet untouched.” entrance of the aristocrats.

The Duke recollected it perfectly well, but did not Preceded by servants holding hastily-lit torches, and choose to know anything of which his servants could having on each side a young lady, the Duke walked more properly remind him. In those days inns were so with stately step, neither casting look to the right nor ill-served that noble and wealthy travellers were conthe left, and proceeded to dry his damp and spotted stantly in the habit of taking all necessary articles with clothes by the now sparkling fire, in which he was imi- them. tated by his fair companions.

" Then serve the lunch,” replied the robleman, Tall, slim, and even gaunt, the Duke somewhat re- / solemnly.


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“ In the meantime, if Martin has a chamber, we will “ Hum !” said the Duke, dryly, “but I have not seen adjust our wet garments," observed the Countess, with you since you were a child.” a sweet smile.

“ You mistake, Monsieur le Duc; ten years back-I “ Madame,” exclaimed the woman, in much confu- was then a lad of fifteen—I saved your daughter's life sion, and with a profound reverence, “I have but one when thrown into the Somme," replied Charles, as dryly. room, and that

* Ah!" exclaimed the Duke, his better feelings at Is perfectly at the service of these ladies, to whom once prevailing, “and you never came forward to claim I with pleasure cede my claim,” said Charles, rising, my thanks and gratitude.” and standing uncovered before the two ladies.

“ I knew you, Monsieur, for one of my mother's “We are much obliged,” answered the Countess, sur- brothers, and, therefore, one of her persecutors," replied veying with some little surprise, and even confusion, the Charles Clement, coldly. handsome youth who thus suddenly stood before them. “ Charles Clement,” said the nobleman, taking his

“For what?" exclaimed the Duke, haughtily. hand, “ you wrong me. Perhaps I might have been,

“For Monsieur's courtesy,” said the Countess, turn- who knows, had the opportunity occurred. But I was ing, with steady mien, towards the nobleman.

away with the army, and only heard of the matter a “ The courtesy of a roturier,” sneered the Duke, with year after my sister's death. She was my playmate, too, that characteristic disregard for the people's feelings in early days, and I am glad to meet her child.” which paved the way for so much bitter revenge.

“ My Lord Duke,” replied Charles, warmly, “ this is “ Monsieur,” exclaimed Charles, coldly, “ you for- to me an unexpected delight.” get the times are changed, and that a bourgois is no “ You have the face of a Ravilliere," said the Duke, longer a slave.”

musing sadly, as he thought what he would have given “ This to me!” cried the Duke, reddening, while the for such a son, and, were you noble by your father's painful conviction forced itself upon him that the words side, might aspire to great things.” breathed truth.

* Monsieur le Duc,” exclaimed Charles, “ you are “ Yes, to you, Monsieur le Duc de Ravilliere, Mar- mistaken. A time is coming when the factitious adquis de Pontois,” replied Charles ; “I mean nothing im- vantages of rank and birth will no longer have weight, polite, but to remind you that we are no longer serfs.” and when merit, talent, energy, will be as ready a road

“ This comes of teaching the people; those vile pam- to preferment." phleteers are ruining the state,” muttered the Duke ; by “ I believe,” said the nobleman, sinking his voice, led pamphleteers the Duke meant Montesquiou, Voltaire, away, he knew not why, by the charm of the other's Ilelvetius, Rousseau.

voice, and forgetting awhile his stately pride ; “ I believe Meanwhile the Countess and her fair companion, who the state of the country to be more serious than the had slightly coloured on the approach of Charles, whose nobles suppose ; but the change you contemplate is an manly, handsome form, and enthusiastic character, were idle dream. A pretty state of things, truly, when a no strangers to Adela de Ravilliere, retired, followed by gentilhomme shall be no better than a roturier." their maids.

“ And yet, my uncle,” interposed Charles, quietly, “ Monsieur le Duc will perhaps allow me to observe,” “ both are but men." said Charles, modestly, “ that there are others who have Oh!” said the Duke, with an involuntary sneer, tended that way besides the philosophers.”

“you are one of the disciples of equality. But let us Whom, pray?" replied the Duke, sarcastically, or not discuss politics, lest we quarrel. You are going to rather with that profound impertinence which the igno- Paris ?” rant rich sometimes assume towards the poor,

“ I am,” replied Charles. “ The profligate, reckless, and ignorant men who “ With what object ?” have pretended of late to rule the state, to say nothing “ To watch events. I have a small income, derived of the women.”

from my late father, and hope that circumstances may “ Young man,” exclaimed the Peer, astounded and arise favourable to the pursuit of my profession." piqued—he remembered his own humble court to the se- “ You will find a friend in your uncle,” said the Duke, ductive Dubarry—“this is rank treason !"

sadly; “ I have but one child left, with whom my name “ You will hear much more,” said Charles, “ from the ends. Except yourself I have not a relative, save one Tiers-Etat."

distant one, and in these days a young head may be “ Bah!" said the Duke, carelessly, “they may talk ; useful. Whenever you are at leisure you are welcome all they will say will end in smoke. But have I not seen at the Hotel Ravilliere."

“ Thank you, my uncle," exclaimed Charles, blushing “ I believe my face is not strange to your family,” crimson, while his heart's blood came and went with rareplied Charles, bitterly. Ilis mother had been a Ra- pidity, “I shall avail myself of the privilege." yilliere, who had married for love into a legal family, and Meanwhile the busy valets, using the apartment as if it died of a broken heart, in consequence of the persecu- had been their master's property, had spread, on a white tions of her relations,

and snowy table-cloth, with plates of porcelain, silver “Ah! I thought so,” exclaimed the Duke, vainly forks, and other articles of luxury, a cold collation, which striving, however, to tax his memory.

made the eyes of the two men glisten, and excited many “I a

am Charles Clement, son of Jacques Clement, admiring and envious whispers. counsellor, who married your sister,” replied the young “I do not think we have such very great reason to man, moodily, the memory of his dead mother's wrongs complain, Duke," said the Countess, returning, accomrising before him, and shedding withered thoughts upon panied by Adela ; " indeed, to have escaped the pelting

storm is alone a luxury."

you before ?"

his path.

* Put another couvert, Germain,” cried the Duke, re- , with a slightly-scornful air ; while the old Duke, who apart suming his stately tone.

from his courtier education had much good sense, reThe ladies exchanged glances, and then looked with plied calmly—“Confound not the class with its abuses," no little surprise on the aged nobleman.

he said, “if indeed such exist. That some disorders “ Adela,” he continued, " you have, doubtless, not have taken place I grant, because certain men have forgotten your fall from your pony into the Somme ?” looked rather to keeping their places and making

“Oh no!” said she, her cheeks crimsoning, and her money than of being upright ministers—a common faillovely eyes slightly moistened, “ nor my brave cousin ing with men in power—but I cannot descry in what who rescued me."

the nobles are generally to blame.” “ Humph!” remarked de Ravilliere, dryly, but not “My Lord,” replied Charles, warmly, “the present angrily, “ so you recognise him.”

generation of the aristocracy are not wholly to be con"Monsieur Clement and I have met once since," said demned ; to the vices and immorality of the last reign Adela, recovering herself, “ about ten days ago in the we owe much of present misery—so true is it the wickedforest."

ness of those in high places is gall and wormwood to the “ Oh” continued the Duke, “ but allow me, at all people. But the nobles are to blame in preserving their events, to introduce to you,” addressing the Countess, antique privileges, the barbarisms of feudalism ; in not my nephew, Charles Clement.”

bearing their fair share of taxation ; they are to blame, “Here, too,” exclaimed the Countess, laughing," you because, having no eyes, they do not see the signs of the are too late“I was with Adela on the occasion refer- times ; they are to blame, in contending madly, in the red to."

face of increasing enlightenment, against the truth “ Oh!" again said the old man, “but, nephew, know which is heard trumpet-tongued in the garret and workmy noble and lovely ward, the Countess Miranda de Casal shop-infusing hope and elating the bosom—that the Monté.”

people are something in the nation, and should enjoy Charles bowed, and, on the invitation of the Duke, seated rights as well as perform duties.” himself on one side of the table, with his uncle opposite, “And are such the feelings,” inquired the Duke, "of while the ladies sat to his right and left. The meal many besides yourself ?” commenced. The conversation was serious, but not sad. “My Lord Duke,"exclaimed the young man,“they are Charles, at the request of the Duke, spoke of his early the cherished sentiments of thousands of Frenchmen, life, of his orphan state, of his arduous studies in Paris who hail the States General but as the prelude to & for the legal profession, of his many courageous struggles constitution and representation of the people, as in against adversity, and those difficulties which encumber England.” -though in the end they aid—the progress of the man “But in England—for I have travelled there-reprewho has to make his way in the world by the power of sentation is generally but a name.” industry, talent, and learning,

“Monsieur de Ravilliere," said Charles, “they have “M. Charles," said Miranda, after listening with at the shadow, and the substance will follow. We have tention to his eloquent but somewhat bitter relation, neither shadow nor substance.” in which his habitual sense of wrong and injury in- “Ma foi !” exclaimed the Duke, “ if these sentiments flicted on his class burst forth——“M le Duc has promised are rife, we may have a hard tussle for our privileges, you his support and countenance ; you will therefore But, young man, we have the army, we have the rich, scarcely want any other, but if my less weighty in the noble with us, and all power in our hands, and must fluence be of any use at any time, command it." prevail.”

“Madame,” replied Charles gravely, the kind, gentle, “ And we have public opinion, justice, and the people," but protective tone, touching him to the quick, “your replied the young man, quietly. offers, along with those of my uncle, are generous and “ These are new words," mused the Duke ;“ but go tempting, but I am one of those who must fail or owe on, nephew, I am rather glad to hear you speak ; I shall all to themselves."

learn something of which few of my class have any “Then fail you will,” said the Countess half ironically, idea." “for owe your success to some one you must, whether And Charles Clement, whose keen eye and thoughtful that some one be your friends or the public."

mind had watched the progress of events, and who had “I would owe my success, Madame la Comtesse," pondered deeply on the probable consequences of the pocontinued Charles, “to my own exertions; I would know pular and universal ferment ; upon the effect produced that my pen or my voice—and if these fail me, my by the wide diffusion of political information ; who knew hands—have made me whatever I am to become, and not --he, the law student, who had lived among the people to feel that I am rich or powerful or great, because rich the excitable character of the Paris mob; who was and powerful and great people have taken me by the well aware that thousands of men were hoping for lihand.”

berty, and would risk fortune and life to win it, sketched, “But, Charles,” observed the Duke, gazing at him with almost prophetic power, much which was to come. curiously, “ to your own relations you cannot object His picture was dim ; he dealt necessarily in generaliowing something."

ties ; his ideas of change fell far short of the reality; “When I am the enemy of the class to which they but his warnings were accompanied by so much that belong,” replied the young man enthusiastically, “how was cogent in reasoning, and were attuned with so much ever much I can love and respect them, I can owe them eloquence and animation, that his auditors were variously nothing."

moved. The Countess Miranda raised her dark eyes with Vague sensations of alarm made the Duke shudder, astonishment on the youth ; Adela curled her pretty lips for he saw that his old age, which he had so fondly hoped would have ended in peace, was likely to be a “ Monsieur le Duc,” replied Charles Clement, startled, stormy one, and more and more he clung to the support “ I told you I could accept nothing." which, in this time of popular tribulation, he might look “My friend," said the Duke, smiling sadly, “ you for in a young and active relation.

would not surely refuse to accept a mother's gift?” Adela, though much struck by the words of the young A mother's gift !" exclaimed Charles. man, was much more so by his manner, and the spark- “Yes, my nephew, for eighteen years my sister's porling animation depicted in his eyes, which had become tion has been accumulating in my hands ; the arrears deeply imprinted on her heart.

amount to 120,000 livres, while the principal is a farm Miranda listened coldly and critically, and not a trace near Paris, of which my homme d'affaires will hand you of emotion of any kind was visible on her handsome, nay, the title-deeds in due form, with the amount which he beautiful countenance.

has in his hands of the twenty years' accumulation." The ladies, the storm not abating in the least, retired But, my uncle,” said Charles, hesitating. shortly after the conclusion of the dinner to the room so “M. Charles," exclaimed the Duke, gravely, “through gallantly ceded to them by Charles Clement, in order to culpable negligence on my part, and the fact that, parrepose from the fatigues of the day. The Duke, too, don me, I had forgotton your very existence, this money determined to lie down on a bed made with the cushions has not been previously paid you, but yours it is, and of the carriage, and other materials which the servants M. Grignon will show you the necessary documents to produced, in the double-bedded room intended by Madame prove this.” Martin for Torticolis and Duchesne, but which now was "I am deeply grateful, Monsieur le Duke, and can ceded to the aged nobleman and our hero.

refuse nothing which was my mother's.” “ Charles," said the Duke, soon after the two young “It is then settled ; good night, nephew,”—and in a women had retired, “perhaps you are not aware that I few moments more the nobleman was asleep, leaving the owe you 120,000 livres ?”

young man to ponder on the events of the day.


Amongst the arts connected with the elegancies | in this system of hydraulics being to throw the of social life, in a degree which nobody denies, is salivating column in a parabolic curve from the the art of Conversation; but in a degree which centre of Parliament Street, when driving four-inalmost everybody denies, if one may judge by hand, to the foot pavements, right and left, so as their neglect of its simplest rules, this same art is to alarm the consciences of guilty peripatetics on not less connected with the uses of social life. either side. The ultimate problem, which closed Neither the luxury of conversation, nor the pos- the curriculum of study, was held to lie in spitting sible benefit of conversation, is to be had under round a corner; when that was mastered, the that rude administration of it which generally pupil was entitled to his doctor's degree. Endless prevails. Without an art, without some simple are the purposes of man, merely festal or merely system of rules, gathered from experience of such comic, and aiming but at the momentary life of a contingencies as are most likely to mislead the cloud, which have earned for themselves the dispractice, when left to its own guidance, no act of tinction and apparatus of a separate art. Yet for man, nor effort, accomplishes its purposes in per- conversation, the great paramount purpose of sofection. The sagacious Greek would not so much cial meetings, no art exists or has been attempted. as drink a glass of wine amongst a few friends That seems strange, but is not really so. A without a systematic art to guide him, and a re- limited process submits readily to the limits of a gular form of polity to control him, which art and technical system ; but a process, so unlimited as which polity (begging Plato's pardon) were better the interchange of thought, scems to reject them, than

any of more ambitious aim in his Republic. And even, if an art of conversation were less unEvery symposium had its set of rules, and vigor- limited, the means of carrying such an art into ous they were ; had its own symposiarch to govern practical effect amongst so vast a variety of minds, it, and a tyrant he was. Elected dennocratically, seem wanting. Yet again, perhaps, after all, this he became, when once installed, an autocrat not may rest on a mistake. What we begin by misless despotic than the King of Persia. Purposes judging is the particular phasis of conversation still more slight and fugitive have been organised which brings it under the control of art and disinto arts. Taking soup gracefully, under the difcipline. It is not in its relation to the intellect ficulties opposed to it by a dinner dress at that that conversation ever has been improved or will time fashionable, was reared into an art about be improved primarily, but in its relation to manforty-five years ago by a Frenchman, who lectured ners. Has a man ever mixed with what in upon it to ladies in London ; and the most technical phrase is called “good company,” brilliant Duchess of that day was amongst his meaning company in the highest degree polished, best pupils. Spitting, if the reader will pardon company which (being or not being aristocratic as the mention of so gross a fact, was shown to be a respects its composition) is aristocratic as respects very difficult art, and publicly prelected upon the standard of its manners and usages? If he about the same time, in the same great capital. really has, and does not deceive himself from The professors in this faculty were the hackney- vanity or from pure inacquaintance with the coachmen ; the pupils were gentlemen, who paid world, in that case he must have remarked the a guinea each for three lessons; the chief problem large effect impressed upon the grace and upon


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